My 3 Sons

We're Not Having Chicken and Dumplings for Dinner

2012-02-16T20:26:00.004-06:00

The bullet briefing format isn't my best blogging, but I dare you to read it. You'll soon understand why this is the way it has to be.

*On Valentine's Day, I had been at work for all of three minutes when Goliath called me from the school nurse's office to tell me she thought he had pink eye and I needed to come pick him up.

*Was the nurse really so busy at 8:13 a.m. that she couldn't call me herself?

*I left work, drove back to the elementary school, fetched my son, dropped him off at home, and zoomed back to work. Yes, I left him home alone, and yes, I felt guilty about it.

*I also felt guilty about leaving preschool at 12:30 to take him to the doctor, but that was before I noticed that all preschool parents must have fed their 4-year-olds Valentine candy for breakfast.

*The classic-flavored Sweetheart candies are gross. Who wants to eat a banana-flavored heart with a corny suggestive saying on it? I much prefer the SweetTart hearts.

*A doctor visit confirmed pink eye.

*I asked the P.A. to make sure that she sent Goliath's prescription to our "new" Walgreens instead of the one by our old house. I sure didn't want to drive the three whole extra miles across town to get his eye drops! Then when I went to pick up the scrip, wouldn't you know that our "new" store was out of stock and the only Walgreens in the area that had it was--you guessed it--the one right by our old house.

*Administering eye drops to a ten-year-old is not much different from giving them to a toddler. He squeezes his eye shut at the last second every. single. time.

*I am in desperate need of a good hair color and cut.

*This morning I woke up honestly believing today was Saturday. What a letdown.

*I couldn't figure out why I would set my alarm for 5:15 on a Saturday, so I just turned it off and went back to sleep.

*Obviously, my morning didn't go well.

*I was so frazzled by it not being Saturday, the 'tude I got from my son, another son's missing pants, and the school lunch menu calling for turkey and bean nachos (really, LISD?), that I forgot to take my breakfast with me when I left for work.

*The only thing worse than that is that I realized later that I also failed to put dinner in the crock pot. Instead of chicken and dumplings, we ate scrambled eggs tonight.

*My Buck went to see an oral surgeon today. My mom sent me a pic of him in the chair. Not only is he SO cute, but he was wearing his Team Allyson bracelet.

*Confessions of a bad mom: Sometimes (like today) I will stay to "observe" Goliath's jiu jitsu class just so I can sit still for a little while and do nothing.

*More and more, I am noticing that Abby Dog can't hear very well. Today I walked in the house and she didn't even know I was there until I rubbed her ears.

*I think that all the preschool parents fed their four-year-olds leftover Valentine candy for breakfast today.

*I am seriously thinking about getting one of those "Children At Play" signs to set up by our house. We live on a corner lot, and people need to slow down.

*I let a roofer guy inspect our roof so we can get an estimate on damage from recent hail storms. I thought it was a good thing to do; Hubby said I should never do that again without talking to him first. I guess I should be more picky about who I let climb on our roof.

*Gus the Terrible made me SO MAD yesterday. If he busts through the back door one more time after it rains I swear that I am going to strap wet Swiffer pads to his paws and make him mop the floor.

*I stayed home with Goliath last night while everyone else went to church. I was pulling a few weeds in the front yard and I unearthed a Batman figurine, two Hot Wheel cars, a mangled Lego piece, and two worms.

*After lamenting to my sweet neighbor about my unfortunate day, I sent her this text a while ago: "And now, for my last trick of the day, I am going to breathe deeply so I don't kill the child who took a plate of ketchup out of the kitchen and dropped it on the stairs. Stupid day."

*Writing sentences is an effective punishment for one of our kids.

*Another one of our boys lost the privilege of hanging out with his buddy after school for three days. On the second day, the buddy came to the door and asked me if he could please, please come out to play because "I don't have anything else to do." Talk about guilt trip.

*I still said no, because that's just the kind of week it's been.

Good News!

2012-02-12T19:25:00.002-06:00

"That if you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." Romans 10:9

Tonight I held Little Middle's hand and listened with a full heart as he asked Jesus to be the Savior of his life. Welcome to the forever family, precious boy. Jesus and Mommy love you very, very much.

Bullet Briefing

2012-01-28T17:51:00.008-06:00

*Blogging has taken a backseat on my priority list lately. These bullet points are all I can muster, I'm afraid.

*A 36-hour trip to Houston last week resulted in clean scans. The anxiety leading up to that trip can not be accurately described except to tell you that I was popping Xanax like candy. The relief I felt after the trip is equally indescribable.

*I flew Southwest for my trip. Not only was I "randomly selected" for extra security measures (read: You might be a terrorist, so we are going to humiliate you in front of hundreds of strangers.), but one of my shoes fell out of the bin when it went through the x-ray machine. While standing on one foot so as not to contaminate my bare foot, I summoned an officer for help. She had to stop the conveyor belt, hold up the line, and climb up on to the belt to retrieve my missing shoe.

*God gave me this verse on the day I went to M.D. Anderson: "You, O Lord, are a shield around me. You are my glory, and the lifter of my head." Psalm 3:3

*While I was lying on the table during my test, trying not to freak out, I was reciting that verse over and over to myself. Halfway through the test, the little tech man entered the room and said to me, "You're doing great. Now for the next part I need to put this shield over you." I started to cry. He looked puzzled, and I suppose he thought I didn't understand. He said, "It's okay, ma'am. The shield is for protection." I know, sir. I know.

*I had several hours to kill between tests, so my mom and I left the hospital and went over to Hermann Park to ride the train. It's been 20+ years since I did that! I loved it just as much as a grown woman as I did when I was a little girl.

*My dad comes to M.D. Anderson when I meet with my doctor to get test results. In the absence of my Hubby, who is home taking care of our cowboys, I feel very safe. It takes a good man to sit in the gynecological oncology waiting room.

*Our Sunday School class came over to our house last weekend and we played Headbanz. Just because it says "5 and up" on the box doesn't mean adults can't play.

*Some people look more foolish than others wearing Headbanz cards on their heads.

*I am learning how to play Mexican train. Hubby has never played before in his life, and when we played with friends, he won. I don't know how he pulled that off.

*Baby read "Goodnight, Moon" to me at bedtime the other night. It made me cry.

*Baby read "Old Hat, New Hat" to me last night. He wants to practice so he can take it to school and read it in front of his class.

*The boys now have assigned seats in my car. They drive me crazy sometimes.

*I thought it would be nice of me to volunteer to take a turn hosting Little Middle's cub scout den meeting. Two things I have to say about that: the den leaders are saints, and we will probably never do it again.

*As soon as the last scout was out the door, I put on my slippers and went next door for a girls' night in. My darling neighbor was generous with her wine and her company, and I immediately felt better. Especially when I saw that her refrigerator AND her stove were in her living room due to kitchen remodeling. It's the only time that my house will ever be tidier than hers.

*Baby is sitting next to me right now singing "Dynamite."

*Little Middle raced a car in his first pinewood derby. It didn't go that well. :(

*I bought my unborn niece her first pair of shoes today and a bib that says "I Love My Auntie." Indeed she will.

*My mom, my sister, my SIL, and I are planning a girls' trip for the first part of Spring Break. Can. Not. Wait.

*I miss my grandparents.

*My co-teacher and I hosted a "Pre-K Preview" day last week in our classroom for parents who are considering sending their children to us next year. All things considered, I think it went well.

*Cotton candy was invented in 1904 and used to be called fairy floss. Thank you, Food Network.

*Hubby plays Words With Friends with my aunt, and he is in awe of her WWF skillz.

*My dad and my uncle are going to the Master's. I am so happy for my daddy, because he will get to check something off of his bucket list.

*I think I really want to see "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." Then again, I am a little scared to see it.

*The boys and I watch "Call of the Wildman" every week together. If you haven't seen it, you should catch it on Animal Planet. There is nothing more backwoods than the Turtle Man.

*I am learning that I can't protect the people I love from other people who might hurt them, and that hurts me.

*Some mornings I play Phil Joel's "Good Morning" to wake the boys up for school. One morning, Little Middle rolled over and growled at me, "I would rather put SCISSORS in my EARS than listen to you sing this song to me!!!!" Every time I think of him saying that, I giggle.

*Last weekend Goliath cleaned out my car, including vacuuming. Five days later, I spilled a whole cup of coffee in there and had to get the upholstery professionally cleaned.

*I have had fun lately downloading new fonts to use with my Word documents. So nerdy.

*I think about what it would be like if I die. Not for me, but for my family. I go back and forth on whether I would want Hubby to remarry. I certainly want him--all of them--to be happy, but I don't like the thought that I could be replaced.

*I am an emotional eater.

*My bed is the most comfy place in the whole world.

*I got tall black boots for Christmas, and I love them!

*Someone told me the other day that I am well-dressed. I don't know about that, but I appreciated the compliment.

*Hubby changed his ringer on his phone. Now when I call him, his phone plays "Pretty Woman." Aw.

*Sometimes I listen to the song "How He Loves Us" by the David Crowder Band, and I am overwhelmed. If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking.

Family Photo Shoot

2012-01-11T10:42:00.012-06:00

Me and all my guys.

Brothers! This is my favorite picture of the three of them EVER.

I'm proud of the house we've built.

Goliath, age 10

Little Middle, age 7

Baby, age 6

*Credit for making the five of us look better than what we are goes to my friend PandaMom. Her talent and creativity gave me these treasures!*

Goliath Turns 10

2012-01-02T13:46:00.007-06:00

Dear Goliath,

You are double digits today! Ten years ago today, my dream came true when I became a mommy. When the nurse handed me that sweet blue bundle with the gloworm eyes, I literally stopped breathing for a moment. I will never forget that as I held you for the first time, it was as if time stood still. It was just you and me. You looked so intently at me I felt as if I were being interviewed for the job of being your mother. The commotion of the medical staff and even our excited family became background noise as the two of us got to know each other. We were made to be together, you know...

And now, ten years later, here we are. We live just a few miles from that hospital where you gave me the most important job of my life. Every time we drive by there, I remember January 2, 2002, and how much richer I was after I left there than when I went in.

You, my boy, are an adventure. My life has changed in every possible way since you entered it on that wonderful day, and yet I feel as if we have always been together. I think that's the way God made moms and their sons to feel. Being your mom is like riding a tall, fast loop-to-loop roller coaster--the kind that makes you laugh out loud even though you're terrified of what comes next. You make me laugh. Oh Lordy--don't we laugh a lot? Just last night when I was trying to have a conversation with your brother about New Year's resolutions, you popped in and said, "I thought a resolution was a kind of war." And then you popped back out of the room, and left me and your dad snorting with laughter. You crack me up when you assign made-up statistics to everything--like "How many people in the world believe in God? Probably about 52%, right, Mom?" and other random, less-meaningful "facts." You make me laugh when you try to act like you're asleep, because I know that as soon as I tickle your armpits you are going to jump out of bed and try to get away.

Mothering is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. You showed me more than once this year that I need to step it up in the bravery department because you are NOT such a little boy anymore. This summer you went off to camp with Nana's church, quite happily, I might add. You and Jacob never looked back, even as Ms. Lisa and I were calling for just one more hug. How did we get to a place where you can go away for a week and not need me?!? And what about that jiu jitsu tournament? I'm glad you were so focused on your fight, because then you couldn't see me alternately biting my fingernails and jumping up and down like a crazed maniac. I could hardly stand to see my baby out there...but I sure did love the smile on my baby's face with that big medal around his neck!

In fact, if anyone around here is brave, it's you. Remember the first day of 4th grade? I honestly didn't know if I could leave you in that new school that day because my heart hurt so much. But you put on the bravest smile I've ever seen and reported back that your day was great! I know you worry about a lot of things--you're like me in that way, I'm afraid--but you always try your best in spite of your fear.

We have a ton of fun together, but you also manage to strike fear in my heart more than any other person (although your two brothers are right behind you). When you were just a sweet blue bundle, I felt a heavy weight of responsibility to care for you. I still feel that, just in a different way. You don't need me to feed you or dress you anymore, but at age 10, things are a'changin'. You seem to think that you are much more grown-up than you really are. (Tell me again why you think you need a cell phone?!?) Do your old mom this favor: Let me help you. Let's talk about stuff, OK? Let me protect you and fight for you and struggle through long division with you. You're not a teenager yet, so don't act like one. Ask the hard (or embarrassing) questions, and expect honest answers. Accept other ideas and even criticism when it is delivered with love--and you know it always is. It is my job to make sure that you have all the tools you need to be the best you that God created you to be, and He created you to be AMAZING.

On the night of January 2, 2002, when it was just you, Daddy, and me in that hospital room, my heart was so full of joy that I thought I could burst. Today I feel that same way. You are my joy boy. I love you with everything that I am. Happy Birthday, Buddy.

Love,

Mom

Miracle to Miracle

2011-12-31T19:57:00.003-06:00

I accomplished--and learned--a lot in 2011. In the last 12 months, I:

--fulfilled a life dream and met Mary Poppins.

--sought and found help at M.D. Anderson.

--finished a year's worth of chemotherapy and Avastin treatments.

--moved into my perfect house. How I love it here!

--mourned the loss of two precious unborn babies.

--went to about a thousand little boy birthday parties.

--sweltered through the hottest summer EVER.

--continued to study, learn, and grow with my Tuesday Sisters.

--grew my hair back!

--made some new friends in our neighborhood and through the boys' school.

--realized that mothering is not for the faint of heart when Goliath went to camp for a week and later competed in a martial arts tournament.

--went hunting with my man. After 13 years of marriage, it's about time.

--tolerated and even learned to love Gus the Terrible.

--found my inner crafter and spent a lot of time and money at Hobby Lobby.

--discovered Pinterest.

--buried a deceased bunny rabbit and welcomed our guinea pigs' love child into our menagerie.

--went to Disney World, the circus, and a snake farm.

"To be alive, to be able to see, to walk...it's all a miracle. I have adopted the technique of living life from miracle to miracle." --Arthur Rubinstein

New Year's Eve is not really a big deal to us. We used to try to stay up late to watch the ball drop; now we're too old and have too many kids to care. When I wake up in the morning, 2012 will have begun. I won't eat black-eyed peas, I won't hum "Auld Lang Syne", and I won't make resolutions. Instead, I will begin tomorrow like I begin every morning: choosing to LIVE my life. Not too many people get the opportunity that I have had to examine life and re-discover what is truly important. Every single day that I wake up is a miracle. Every experience, every encounter, every minute...miracles. Instead of making temporary resolutions, I want to make one permanent promise to myself: I will recognize my life's miracles and soak them up. I will make the most of what I've been given to be the best me that I can be.

Here's to a 2012 full of grace and love...Happy New Year!

Fancy Free

2011-12-17T07:01:00.006-06:00

Last night I had the distinct privilege of stepping outside my usual circle to attend our church's annual high school girls' winter retreat. Mind you, I elected not to retreat overnight. I am far too old and grouchy to sleep on the floor in a room full of giggling girls. I chose instead to spend the evening with them and then retreated myself right into the comfort of my own bed. The story of how I came to attend the retreat is fun: my cousin, who is a fun-filled, Spirit-led, unique-in-all-ways Bible teacher, called me up last week and said, "Hey! I am teaching at this girls' retreat at a church that I think is pretty close to you. Could I spend the night at your house?" Turns out that it was MY church! We have both been surprised, I think, to discover how many mutual acquaintances we have--it's a small world, after all.

The theme of the retreat was "Fancy Free." The thought of trying to communicate what freedom in Christ truly looks like to a room filled with 9th-12th grade girls is SO intimidating to me, but Christina and the other leaders made it look easy. It is good that I recognize that my God-given talents lie in the 4-year-old realm and not with 14-year-olds. I really enjoyed being able to sit back and participate in meaningful worship and absorb some sound Bible teaching. The theme Scripture is in Matthew 6: 25-34. Here it is from The Message translation:

"If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don't fuss about what's on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds. Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion--do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers--most of which are never even seen--don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes."

So here's what I learned. Or more accurately, here's what I was gently reminded of:

1--I was created purposefully, lovingly, and carefully by THE God of the universe. He crafted me for his pleasure. He delights in me. He cares for me. Tiny sparrows and unseen wildflowers have everything they need. If the Creator cares enough about those little flowers to give them lovely colors and perfect designs, why in the world do I insult him by not believing that his design for me is perfect as well? I am so accustomed to my norm--my day to day, ordinary being, that I allow myself to become settled. I play a lot of different roles in this life: I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister. I am a friend, a teacher, a neighbor. These are all good and accurate descriptions of me. But none of these descriptions necessarily defines me. Yes, I am Mommy to the 3 little cowboys. What if I let that be the thing that defined my life? I would be left with pieces missing, because I was created to be more than just that. There is a universe of possibility out there, and my Jesus wants me to make the most of every chance I have to be the best me that I can be.

2--I can't be free if I don't trust Him. I mean, really really trust. Trust in the sense that I will go anywhere, do anything, give everything...all for Him. Trust in the sense that I am willing--no, EXCITED--to jump into the great unknown if He calls me to, because it never occurs to me that He won't be there to catch me. I can, and should, look for ways to demonstrate His love and glory in the middle of disaster and crisis simply because he is faithful and trustworthy. I am safe as long as I am with my Lord.

I love 4-year-olds. But it was a nice change of pace to go deeper and let my heart be penetrated by the sword of the Spirit. I will be seeking ways to live in God-reality. I don't have to worry. I can relax and be me. What a good God!

Glory Baby

2011-12-12T21:31:00.004-06:00

Dear Baby,

A little while back, your mommy called me to tell me that you were coming. I had been waiting for that phone call for a while--almost since the day your mom and dad got back from their honeymoon! We cried happy tears and I may have even screamed and jumped up and down a little bit. The happy news of you spread quickly.

A few weeks ago, your mommy called me again. This call was as heartbreaking as the first was joyful. She said that she had been to see her doctor to check up on you, and that you had stopped growing and your heart was no longer beating. Just as quietly as you entered our lives, you left.

Your mommy has been my friend for most of my life. I usually refer to her as "my Caroline" around here, and everyone--even people who have never met her--knows who I am talking about. She is my most special friend. As an extension of her, you would have been the most special baby.

I imagine that you might not have had your mom's curls, but you would have had a touch of her red hair. I think that you might have had amazing bright eyes like your daddy and a huge smile like your mommy's. I like to think that you would have loved me intensely. You could have come to my house during the summers, and we would have baked cookies and played with the cowboys. They would have loved you so much!

So many people already loved you...your mommy and daddy, of course. Your grandma and grandpa. Me. You were a long-awaited answer to a heartfelt prayer. We all miss you. Your mommy is such a great lady, and she will be a wonderful mom. But Baby, no matter what, you will always be hers. She is walking through these sad days of missing you by claiming this verse:

"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4

My Caroline's heart desire is to be a mommy. Even though losing you isn't at all what she wanted, there is no denying that by your very existence you made her dream come true.

I hope that, even in your brief life, you felt love. You brought love to our lives, and because of you, we will never be the same. Someday we will see you again, and then your mommy will get to be with you forever. I love you, Glory Baby.

Love,

Auntie Allyson

Glory Baby--Christy Nockels

Glory baby, you slipped away as fast as we could say baby...baby

You were growing, what happened dear?

You disappeared on us, baby...baby

Heaven will hold you before we do

Heaven will keep you safe until we're home with you,

Until we're home with you.

Miss you every day

Miss you in every way

But we know there's a day

when we will hold you, we will hold you.

You'll kiss our tears away

When we're home to stay

Can't wait for the day when we will see you,

We will see you.

But baby, let sweet Jesus hold you

til mom and dad can hold you

You'll just have heaven before we do

You'll just have heaven before we do.

Sweet little babies, it's hard to understand it

'cause we're hurting,

We are hurting

But there is healing

And we know we're stronger people through the growing

And in knowing

That all things work together for our good

And God works his purposes just like he said he would

Just like he said he would

I can't imagine heaven's lullabies

and what they must sound like

But I will rest in knowing, heaven is your home

And it's all you'll ever know, it's all you'll ever know....

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 30

2011-11-30T21:20:00.003-06:00

Day 30: I am thankful that I have so much to be thankful for. It may sound a little silly, but this month I have been intentional about counting my blessings, and I have not once found it difficult to be grateful. What I have, who I'm with, where I live...these are the blessings that God has poured out on me. My life is a testament to His goodness. I don't deserve anything at all, but He is the giver of all good things.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Days 27-29

2011-11-29T21:05:00.002-06:00

Day 27: I am thankful for good food. I like to spend time in my kitchen, perusing my collection of cookbooks and planning meals for my family. I am grateful that I enjoy cooking and that every resource I need is readily available to me. So many people in so many places could only dream about the food that I consume every single day.

Day 28: I am thankful simply that the five people that live in this house are a family. We are not perfect by any means, but we love each other and we are intact. None of us are guaranteed tomorrow. So we work to take care of each other. We fight for what really matters. We say "I love you." My whole world is wrapped up under this roof.

Day 29: I am thankful for my bed. It is the most comfy, cozy place in the world! Once the boys are in bed, I retreat to our bedroom for some "me" time. Some nights I read, some nights I watch TV. I have a safe, warm place to relax and sleep every night. People in my own community don't have what I have.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 26

2011-11-26T08:58:00.002-06:00

Day 26: I am thankful for the joy I feel as the holiday season begins. Last year, I asked God desperately for a glimmer of hope, a restoration of joy. My body was weary and my spirit depleted. What a difference a year makes! I felt it as I decorated my in-laws' Christmas tree with Baby last night, and I feel it as I am looking forward to decorating my own home this weekend. I have always loved this time of year; I hated it so much last year that happiness felt just beyond my grasp. I am blessed beyond measure, and thankful.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 25

2011-11-25T08:45:00.003-06:00

Day 25: I am thankful for AbbyDog. I will never ever forget when Abby came into my life. She was a tiny puppy whose ears were bigger than the rest of her body. We lived in a loft apartment (we were carefree newlyweds) and Abby couldn't climb the stairs because she would trip on her ears! She has been through five moves and three babies with us and never complained. When I was sick, she would lay in bed with me. On my darkest, most scary days, when I wanted to cover my head and never come out, my princess puppy was there loving me. She follows me everywhere I go, and she always is glad to see me when I come home. I love my dog!

30 Days of Thankfulness--Days 19-24

2011-11-24T15:38:00.005-06:00

Day 19: I am thankful for my grandparents. I have been blessed with amazing relationships with them that a lot of people never get to have. I count the four of them among my very favorite people, and many of my happiest memories involve them. I like to imagine that my Grandad is spending his time in eternity building beautiful things to put in the family mansions so he can show off to the rest of us when we get there. I still miss him every day. Gran, Buck, Grandmama~I love you so much!

Day 20: I am thankful for my "Tuesday Sisters" Bible study group. We have met, in some form, for more than 10 years. This is a core group of friends and sisters in Christ who I am privileged to do life with. They have prayed for me, laid hands on me, pushed me to be better, let me complain and/or cry when I needed to. We eat, we shop, we study, and we laugh. We laugh a LOT. They are faithful friends, and I wouldn't be the woman I am without them.

Day 21: I am thankful for Caroline. Caroline has been my friend for as long as I can remember. She knows things about me that no one else knows. She was my first sleepover buddy, it was her fault that I got my name written on the board in 3rd grade, and she was the one who shared my excitement when that special boy finally kissed me as a teenager (turns out he wasn't really that special after all). She was my maid of honor and I was hers. We have shared joys and heartaches. A friendship like ours is something that not everyone gets to have. She is my lifelong bucket-filler...how fortunate am I?

Day 22: I am thankful for my brother. He was kind of a pest when we were kids, but he turned out to be a pretty cool guy. His quick wit and unique perspective on life make me think and often make me laugh. He loves music, people, and animals. Most of all, he loves God and seeks to walk with Him hand in hand.

Day 23: I am thankful for my sister. Despite our age difference, we have always had a close relationship, but the older we get, the better friends we become. I count her among my closest friends. She is funny, she is stylish, she is sweet, and sometimes she is righteously indignant. She "gets" me, and I adore her.

Day 24: I am thankful for my parents. If you have never met my mom and dad, you are missing out! Today is their 38th wedding anniversary. They love each other, and together they taught us what love is. I am so grateful for their example of commitment and loyalty to each other and to family. They way they live has helped shape me as a wife and a mother, and set the standard for what I want for my children.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Days 17-18

2011-11-18T17:57:00.003-06:00

Day 17: I am thankful for my job. I love love LOVE the opportunity I have to "set the stage" for little ones to begin a lifetime of learning. We have so much fun together! ABCs and 123s are never boring with a bunch of 4-year-olds...and this particular group of littles is amazing. I love to watch them create, count, reason, play, and interact. God's goodness is evident in my classroom every week.

Day 18: I am thankful for my boys' school and their teachers. I absolutely believe that God has his hand over my children each year when they start school, and maybe never more so than now. My sons are blessed with amazing, dedicated professionals who want them to succeed academically, but also care for their spirits. Goliath, Little Middle, and Baby love school! God did that, and I am grateful.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Days 15-16

2011-11-16T21:47:00.002-06:00

Day 15: I am thankful for phenergren. Seriously.

Day 16: I am thankful for all things fall. Cool temperatures, colored leaves, wind, overcast skies, pumpkin bread (and pie...and candles...). Fall is the long-awaited end of the dreadful summer season, but a breather before the rush of the holiday craze begins. To me, it's the most wonderful time of the year!

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 14

2011-11-14T16:36:00.004-06:00

Day 14: I am thankful for good neighbors. We have never known our neighbors (much) until we moved into this house. I didn't really know what I was missing! I love having people close by who will help out in a childcare pinch, who will loan me pots and pans for a lasagna-making extravaganza, and who do not mind if I leave their phone number for the babysitter to use in case of an emergency. I don't have to look too far to find big blessings!

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 13

2011-11-13T07:28:00.003-06:00

Day 13: I am thankful for my Goliath. He can be stubborn and sloppy, but his heart is tender and he loves with no limit. He is growing up SO fast! Right before my eyes, my little boy is being transformed into a young man who protects his brothers, cheers for the underdog, and loves his mom and dad. He is learning what it means to truly be a Christ-follower and how to make the right choices to walk with Jesus. He makes life an adventure--I can't wait to see what's next!

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 12

2011-11-12T09:01:00.003-06:00

Day 12: I am thankful for mornings. I make it a point to get up early so I can have some quiet time before the craziness of the day begins. I love my first cup of coffee, the opportunity to spend time with God, gather my thoughts and get my bearings for the day. Every morning is a small fresh start. I am undeserving, but He is faithful.

Happy Birthday, Baby!

2011-11-11T21:20:00.004-06:00

Dear Baby,

Today you turned six. Six! You told me a few nights ago that after your birthday, you would need two hands to show people how old you are. The tiny hurt in my heart grew just a little bit more when you said that. You probably don't know it, but every new experience you have makes me happy and sad at the same time. Happy because you are a perfectly delightful little person who loves life. Sad, because you are proof that my babies are growing up faster than I care to admit.

But I can't stay sad for too long. You don't allow that! You are way too busy growing and learning and performing and smiling. This year you have had a long list of "firsts." You rode your first real roller coaster. You moved in to your first room all of your own. You jumped off the diving board for the first time. You had your first day of kindergarten. You read your first words.

You are amazingly wonderful. You also do things that make me shake my head and ask "Why?". Like when you colored the bottoms of your feet completely red with a marker. And like how you continue to throw your backpack over the top of your head backwards so that the weight throws you off balance and you topple over onto the sidewalk. And when you lay down on your stomach by the pond at the park so you could try to catch fish with your hands. You are silly, and so very fun.

You like cereal. You are happy in the mornings. Your favorite thing is to ride scooters with your brothers out in the cul-de-sac. You insist that both Daddy and I tuck you in every single night. You always want to be the one to say the blessing before dinner. You have new friends at school, but you still want to hang out with your old buddies. You love school, and your brothers think you're weird because you get excited when you have homework. You want to go to big church with us instead of children's church. You like Legos and knock-knock jokes.

As I write this, you are laying in my big bed snuggled up to me. We are watching some of our favorite Phineas and Ferb episodes. You have your blue blanket tucked under one arm, and I have to smile. It reminds me of the night of November 11, 2005 when we were alone in a hospital room together. You were snuggled up to me with a blue blanket tucked around you that night, too. You are growing up, but you are still--and always will be--my Baby.

Happy two-handed birthday, darling boy. I love you with all my heart.

Love,

Mommy

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 11

2011-11-11T05:54:00.004-06:00

Day 11: I am thankful for my Baby. His infectious smile and random hugs make my world go round. He loves school, he loves his friends, he loves his brothers, he loves his blue scooter and his stuffed raccoon. Being his mom has made me a better person.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 10

2011-11-10T20:30:00.002-06:00

Day 10: I am thankful for my country and the privilege I have to be an American citizen. I know that the freedoms I enjoy came at a price, and I am thankful for those brave men and women who sacrificed so that I can live in the greatest country in the world. One nation under God, with liberty and justice for all!

30 Days of Thankfulness--Days 8-9

2011-11-09T06:02:00.002-06:00

Day 8: I am thankful for the darling lady who cleans my house (no, it's not me). For a minimal wage, she comes faithfully every single Tuesday to sweep, mop, scrub, and dust all the things that I don't have time/enthusiasm for. Our agreement does not include her cleaning the little cowboys' bedrooms or their upstairs game room, but occasionally, I come home to find that she has done those rooms anyway. She is a blessing in my life.

Day 9: I am thankful for music. I often say that music is my love language. I love that when words fail me, I can find a song that expresses exactly what I feel. Back in the day, I was a diligent piano player (although my talent was debatable) and I have a history in high school marching band. I didn't grow up to be a musician, but ask my kids someday about how we blare "Sweet Caroline" in the car with the windows rolled down, or check with my friends about my "song for every occasion" quirk. Music makes memories for me.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Days 1-7

2011-11-07T21:06:00.002-06:00

The first week of November has vanished into thin air. It's time to get caught up on my 30 days of thankfulness!

Day 1--I am thankful for the gifts of forgiveness and salvation that my Lord has given to me. I am undeserving, but He loves me so much!

Day 2--I am thankful for my Little Middle. His life and his heart are pure and simple. He loves openly and freely and doesn't expect much in return except that I love him. And I do.

Day 3--I am thankful for our house. It is cozy and roomy and...homey!

Day 4--I am thankful for my husband. We have been through so much together, but his love for me is stronger than the day we were married. I am blessed.

Day 5--I am thankful for my church. It is a place where I learn and grow, serve and give, worship and love, and receive from others. I really am glad when I go into the house of the Lord!

Day 6--I am thankful for my Bible. Hubby gave it to me for a Christmas gift the week before our first son was born. Nearly ten years later, it is worn and more than a little marked up. I don't know how I could ever replace it, though. Precious, precious book.

Day 7--I am thankful for my washing machine and dryer. I complain a lot about my laundry duties, but the reality is that every time I start a new load, I should take a minute and remember that we have SO MUCH MORE than so many people.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-10-19T14:19:00.007-05:00

Safe

2011-10-12T20:38:00.004-05:00

I spent the last two days at MD Anderson testing and meeting with doctors. Today I found out that within my body, things appear to be normal. There are no "recurrent pelvic masses," no "focal suspicious bony lesions," and no "evidence of metastatic disease."

In other words, ALL CLEAR.

Tonight, I tucked my babies into their beds. I told them that Mommy is OK, and that the pictures the doctor took of my insides showed us that there is no cancer growing. To my oldest son, I said, "Even if those pictures had been different, though, it would not change the single most important thing. What is the most important thing, Goliath?" He replied, "God loves us."

And THAT is why the five of us are completely safe. Tonight, and forever.

"I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." Psalm 4:8

Trusting Jesus

2011-10-03T22:20:00.002-05:00

I received this message from Little Middle's Sunday School teacher:

"...I asked the class to draw a picture of a time they had to trust Jesus. I was touched when he shared that he had to trust Jesus when you were diagnosed with cancer for the 2nd time. He's a precious boy!"

This is the picture that my Little Middle drew:

"For you are my hope; O Lord God, you are my trust from my youth and the source of my confidence. " Psalm 71:5

In Which I Express Myself to Cancer

2011-09-28T21:49:00.003-05:00

Dear Cancer,

I hate you.

I hate what you have done in my own life, and I hate that two other lives this week in my little corner of the globe were snuffed out by you.

It is your fault that these other children will grow up without mothers. It is your fault that my little boys could so easily become those children. It is your fault that those two husbands are now widowers, and I hate you so much because I have horrible dreams that my husband could be that, too. I hate you because you break families apart...good families, who love each other and love God.

I am just so mad! I am furious that you exist in the first place, and even more angry that you are so evasive. You should be cured by now, and even prevented. How are you still able to elude sophisticated medicines and scientists? Why do you insist on sneaking up on innocent people and invading their bodies? Why can't you just leave us alone?!?

I despise you for making me sick, for making my hair fall out and then come back curly, for making me ration my energy and activity so I can be "normal" again, and for making me the object of pity and sympathy. I hate you for making me work so hard to figure out and trust my God--and sometimes to even question everything I have believed for most of my life.

I choose every day to beat you. I decide over and over again not to let you win. But you and I both know that you are very powerful. You have the advantage. If you decide to attack again, there's nothing I can do to change your mind.

Tomorrow morning when I wake up, I will feel--just like I do every morning--scared. But then I will choose--just like I do every morning--to not let you beat me. I will fight; I will trust.

Hear me loud and clear, Cancer: You suck. I can honestly say that I wish I had never met you. GO AWAY.

With as much sincerity as I can muster,

Allyson

Ten Years

2011-09-11T13:35:00.002-05:00

Where were you when the world stopped turning on that September day?

On this day ten years ago, I had three years of marriage behind me and we were eagerly expecting our first child. I was at work on the morning of September 11, 2001, when the news began to circulate in our office that something in America was very wrong. We turned on the television set in the city manager's office and a group of us stood there, too horrified to believe that what we were seeing could be real. I saw the second plane crash into the World Trade Center and I saw live images of those towers imploding. Thoughts of the magnitude of the loss of life overwhelmed me. I remember that I called Hubby at his office to make sure he was aware and safe, and I took a call from my mom. I spent my lunch hour that day sitting in my car listening to the unbelievable details on the news wire.

I raced home at the end of the day and planted myself in front of the TV. Hubby and I ordered Chinese food for dinner. As much as we wanted to, we couldn't tear ourselves away from the terrible pictures that meant that life in America would never be quite the same. I remember that I put my hands on my belly so I could feel Baby Goliath move and kick. I cried so much--for the lives that were lost that day, and for the new life that I would soon be bringing into the world.

In the days and weeks to follow, I remember the flood of emotion I felt as the country--MY country--began to rebuild. I remember how colors and ancestry and political parties became irrelevant, because all that mattered was that we were all Americans. I remember the flags and the yellow ribbons displayed. I remember feeling so very proud to be an American.

My boys weren't even alive before September 11, 2001. Life post-9/11 is the only life they've ever known. Hubby and I have never talked with them much about 9/11...not because we don't think it's important, but because we don't know how to explain to our children that there are evil people in the world who want to hurt us because we don't think or act like them. And because we don't know how to answer questions about thousands of innocent lives lost and a good, just God who loves everyone. But this past spring, when U.S. forces killed Osama Bin Laden, the questions started. And what I was afraid of is exactly what happened: they asked questions that I didn't have answers for.

What I do know, though, is that I want my boys to grow up to be men who love God, love people, and love their country. Today is a day for Hubby and me to remember, and for us to teach our sons to take pride in the life they have in the United States of America and to mean what they say when they recite the Pledge of Allegiance. Because we are indeed one nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all.

Oh! thus be it ever when freemen shall stand

Between their loved home and the war's desolation

Blest with victory and peace may the heav'n rescued land

Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just

And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave

Oer the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And They're Off!...Now What?

2011-09-07T12:13:00.012-05:00

The day I've waited for and dreaded has come and gone! Look:

The three little cowboys have gone off to school. They walked into their new school on the first day together, and each one had a great day. In fact, pretty much every day so far has been a great day! According to Goliath, if "some dummy hadn't invented math, school would be just about perfect for me."

I was just as nervous as they were on the first day--maybe even more so. We had met all their teachers, purchased all their supplies, and ordered the backpacks they wanted. A side note about those school supplies: I finally wised up this year and bought the wrap packs. For the last four years I've nearly killed myself trying to recreate what I loved doing with my mom: picking out all of the school supplies and crossing things off the list and shopping for new clothes. With the boys, it was a beating. Boys just don't care. So I saved myself the heartache and frustration and just went with the PTA deal. It was the smart thing to do.

Where was I? Oh, yes. The first day. Not only did we start at a brand new elementary school, but Baby is a big kid now. My first thought when I woke up that morning was, "Today is our last first day of kindergarten." How did we get here?!?

He loves it. He doesn't seem to mind being away from me all day. He likes his teacher, all of the specials classes, and the playground. He loves the penguins that his teacher collects, the reading fort in his classroom, and his locker. He even likes homework (and he takes it very seriously). The only thing he doesn't care for at kindergarten is the kid that sits beside him because "he is not a good listener." On the 2nd day of school, Baby came home and announced that he had a new best friend at school. I asked what his name is, and my boy said, "I don't remember." Ha!

How about this guy? He's a proud 2nd grader. Get this...once upon a time, his teacher had ovarian cancer. That's no coincidence. Luckily, she no longer has cancer. Instead, she has a newt and some fish in her classroom, and that's all she needed to win Little Middle's heart.

And this one...my big 4th grader. Oh, the worry leading up to that first day! But turns out he needn't have worried much at all. He already knows several kids at school--one from flag football a few years ago, one who played on his kindergarten baseball team, and another little boy who he used to pal around with in preschool! He totally gets that God is taking care of him. His teacher couldn't be more perfect for him. She has a very cool, laid back personality, and from what Goliath reports, her classroom library is the best in the building!

So the boys are happy and thriving. Now what? The truth is that I'm having a bit of an identity crisis. Of course I don't sit around pining for them all day (well, I did on that first day, but I've gotten better), but it's so WEIRD. The house is quiet and still. There are no fights to break up, milk to be poured, or snacks to be fetched. All I've done for nearly ten years is have small people underfoot, and now I have all this T-I-M-E. I run errands. I grocery shop by myself (much easier and economical than going with the kids). I clean house and do laundry. Slowly, I am figuring it out. I have been invited to a mom's prayer group specifically for our elementary school. I have plans to have coffee with a neighbor who I'd like to get to know better. I have tried a few new recipes and last week I even went to see a movie! Maybe it's time to do a few Allyson things instead of a lot of Mommy things.

One of the things I love to do is teach, and not a moment too soon, preschool started back up yesterday! It was so strange to walk in by myself--I've had at least one little cowboy at preschool with me for the last eight years. The day went about as smoothly as a first day of preschool can go. I have delightful four-year-olds who are smart, curious, and a little noisy. I can't wait to see their eyes light up as they discover new things this year!

Baby really wanted me to have a good first day, so he helped make my lunch. Smile.

In other random H-family news, Abby Dog's 13th birthday quietly came and went. We didn't throw a big party, but her cousins Lucy and Moose were here visiting and we managed to make her feel plenty special. She is now 91 in people years--elderly by any standard. The boys occasionally ask me if she's going to die, to which I retort, "Of course not."

Little Middle hates spelling words, but still loves his Legos as much as ever! He nearly emptied his substantial Lego box building this skyscraper last week:

God and Mother Nature finally showed us some mercy here in North Texas with temperatures that were less than 100 degrees. On Labor Day, I took Little Middle and Baby out exploring in the "forest" behind their school. That water bottle Little Middle is holding contains a lizard that he caught. It is so gross and ugly, and right now it is in a box on my coffee table because LM was able to persuade me that he will get cold outside at night. Ick.

Goliath couldn't go on the adventure because he spent the weekend in bed with a lovely strep throat/sinus infection combination. And I would just like to say that no adventure compares with that of going to a pediatric urgent care clinic on a Sunday afternoon. Now, in spite of incessant hand-washing and mouth-covering, Hubby seems to have caught the germs. I'm trying not to inhale too deeply around here.

Now I'm off to get a head start on dinner. Ham and cheese pie is on the menu tonight. The only thing better than Southern Living is a good friend who reads it and passes along the best recipes!

Reflecting

2011-08-15T20:52:00.004-05:00

Today I got to hold an hours-old baby. Everything else going on in that hospital room faded into background noise while I looked over Baby Kate's teeny tiny fingers and toes. Astonishing. I was privileged to be present while the big brother and big sister met their new baby sister for the first time. I got to hug my precious friend who, I swear, has been pregnant longer than anyone I've ever known through the hottest summer I can remember.

Every detail of my visit brought back every detail of my own babies. How good they smelled...how soft their skin was...the funny faces they made...how I loved to rock and sing to them. I remember the hospital stays--the visitors, the balloons and flowers, the Chick-Fil-A cravings, the tiny outfits, the pride and excitement.

I also remember the first night we had Goliath home with us, when I slept inches away from him for fear he would stop breathing. How my days and nights bled together with a newborn in the house. How my whole world suddenly revolved around feeding times and tummy gurgles. How I learned that there is no laundry detergent powerful enough to get out some baby stains. How I cooked dinner with one hand for years so that I could hold a baby boy with my other. How I obsessively tried to keep them on a good schedule, read them books, and take them outside every day, and how I beat myself up when I missed a day. How I feared failure more than anything...and still do.

When Baby was born, Goliath was not quite 4 and Little Middle was just 17 months old. I had my hands more than full. Those were the days when people at the grocery store gave me that "you're crazy" look. I walked blindly through those first years, kind of in a survival mode. I thought more than once that if I could just get them all sleeping through the night...drinking from a sippy cup...walking...sitting in a booster seat...down to one nap a day...out of the stroller...then I would have it made.

Now my Baby is going to kindergarten. Tiny onesies have long since been replaced by superhero t-shirts. We're down from 3 carseats to 1 small booster seat. Everyone drinks from a real cup and eats off of (gasp!) breakable plates. My baby days are well behind me.

But now I know better than to think that I have it made just because my babies are older. Yes, they are more independent in a lot of ways. But in some ways, they need me more than ever. And it's nice to be needed. Mothering is not for the faint of heart.

My mom tells me that as her children were growing, she always anticipated the next stage and enjoyed it more than the one before. Don't get me wrong--I am super-proud of my boys and the little people they are becoming. I wouldn't trade one crazy day in this zoo for anything. But I guess tonight I just feel a little nostalgic. Their little fingers wrapped so easily around my big one. I wish it could always be easy.

Every single night, I still check on each boy before I go to bed. I lay a hand gently on his chest to make certain of his steady breathing, and I plant a quiet kiss on his forehead. I get to be their mom. It was then, and always will be, the greatest joy of my life.

Too Hot to Blog

2011-08-04T15:39:00.004-05:00

Today is Day 34 in an exhausting string of consecutive days of 100+ degree temperatures, aka Texas Heat Wave 2011. The swimming pool is like bath water. Cooking anything besides cereal is torture. It feels like the a/c in the car isn't working, but it is--it just can't keep up. The boys and I are hunkered down with ceiling fans running at full speed in every room. It's just TOO HOT...even for August in Texas.

June Wrap-Up

2011-07-05T11:12:00.013-05:00

Summer is almost half over. I blinked my eyes, it was July already. So, mostly for the sake of documentation, here's some of what went on around this zoo in June.

In June, I...

--said goodbye to precious friends who moved to Tennessee. Richard and Christina, you may never know this side of heaven the extraordinary impact you have had on me and my family. I miss you, and will continue to pray for you. Deuteronomy 28:3!!!

--had a painful, emotionally charged visit with Dr. M, which led me to the decision that I must find a new oncologist.

--went to 2 last-day-of-school parties with my oldest cowboys. Saying goodbye to their teachers and their school was tough.

--got my mop 'o curls cut and colored. Mustered every ounce of courage I have and went public with it. Still not loving it.

--let my cowboys visit their grandparents for six days by themselves. Oh, the QUIET!!

--traveled to West Texas with Hubby to visit family and retrieve the cowboys. I especially enjoyed pool time with my little guys and spending time with Sweet Mema, my grandmother-in-law.

--watched Little Middle shine at Lego Camp with his best buddy. That smile of his is priceless!

--got de-ported. Day surgery to remove my chemo port was not too bad. I am SO glad to have it out!

--continued with my Pinterest ~~problem~~ obsession. I found a few DIY projects that I loved...look what I made!!!:

That precious menu board is nothing but cute paper in a simple frame. I write on the glass with an Expo marker and erase it every week with a paper towel. Easy! And no one ever asks "What's for dinner?" anymore. :)

--taught 4-year-olds in VBS at church. I loved the time with my beloved co-teacher, but I realized that summer is not my best season for teaching. I blame the lack of patience on the heat.

--went on a day adventure with the cowboys to visit my brother at a youth camp where he was working. I got a lot more than I bargained for when we attended the afternoon worship service. Our friend John sang a song that he and my brother wrote together while I was sick last year. I was humbled and honored to have camp leaders and youth pray for me and lay hands on me and my family. It was the most extraordinary spiritual experience I've had in a long time. I left Waxahachie with a full and grateful heart.

(BTW, I highly recommend the "Declaration" record by John Sherrill. Get it!)

--continued to look for my favorite cookbook and my camera, both of which are missing since we moved. It explains the lack of creativity in my menu planning and the poor quality of pictures in this post.

About the Hair

2011-06-25T19:40:00.004-05:00

"The hair is the richest ornament of women."--Martin Luther

Fifteen months have passed since I shut my eyes tight and gripped my mom's hand as hard as I could while my hair was shaven off my head in response to chemotherapy treatments. The intense sorrow I felt during that hour at the salon was matched only by the horror I felt when I finally worked up the courage to look at myself in the mirror later that night.

They say that time heals all wounds. I disagree, but I would compromise and acknowledge that time takes the sting out of most wounds. As much as I hated it, I learned to live without my hair. Life kept going on all around me, and I made the choice to participate as much as I was able.

But my already-fragile self-esteem was shattered by my cancer-induced baldness. All these months, I've put on a brave face and a good show, but every time I looked in the mirror, I saw ugly.

Now my hair is growing. I've had it cut a few times, and recently finally got it colored because I've found that blondes really do have more fun. I begged my hairdresser to find a way to fix the crazy, kinky curls into a silky straight mane, and you know what she said? "You should embrace the curls." Humph. Some advice.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. Turns out she knows what she's talking about. After two agonizing trips and quite a few dollars to the beauty supply store, I found out that all the products and flat irons in the world can't fix this. Trying to straighten this hair only makes me look like I'm wearing a huge mushroom on my head.

So I have curls. Lots and lots of very blonde curls. I've experimented with a few different things, but the bottom line is the same every. single. day. It's still ugly. I can't comb it down or tuck it behind my ears or put a clip in it or anything. I can't even manage to make it look like I meant to style my hair this way!

Since the boys have been out of school, I have been wig-free for the most part. They have gotten used to the new look, so I know it's time for me to go public with my hair. Tomorrow will be that day. I don't mean to dramatize it, but I have great anxiety about going to church without my wig. I feel vulnerable and exposed. It's hard to explain...I think I should feel victorious and joyful instead of scared.

I've often said I wouldn't trade my cancer journey for anything because I've learned so many valuable lessons along the way. But how I wish I could have taken this same journey with a full head of hair! But then again, what I've learned probably wouldn't have mattered nearly as much. Like knowing that life has very little to do with my hair and everything to do with my heart.

A Real Mom Kind of Day

2011-06-23T21:56:00.003-05:00

I've never pretended to be something I'm not on here, so I will preface everything I want to say with a confession: I am drinking a glass of wine right now and it is the best thing that's happened to me today.

That being said, let's talk about my day. The alarm went off this morning, and I turned it off and went back to sleep. Yes, I set my alarm during the summer. It's weird, but I like being up early so I can enjoy a cup of coffee and quiet time before the ~~monsters~~ children get up. So the day was already off to a rocky start when I went in the kitchen late and it was a disaster from each boy getting their own breakfast. Um, hello? We own this great contraption called a trash can. It would be fabulous if someone besides me would use it to clean up after themselves.

The novelty of summer never lasts long, and I think I can safely say it's over around here. I had barely had two sips of coffee--not nearly enough for me to be patient--when I was surrounded by "Stop it!" "He took that away from me!" "I was here first!" "MOOOOMMM!!!" I'm not even kidding that I let them watch TV/play Wii/use the laptop for most of the rest of the morning.

Electronic Time was interrupted only by requests for snacks and me defending my recent hurried grocery trip. No, we don't have any more Gripz crackers. No, I forgot to replace the pretzels. No, I did NOT buy Fruit Roll Ups. (Why do they like those things anyway? They are so gross.)

Then it was time for lunch. We had to eat early today so we would have plenty of time to get Little Middle to Lego camp with his best and oldest buddy. Everyone wanted chicken nuggets. Everyone agreed that microwaved chicken nuggets were preferred over waiting for me to bake them in the oven. I left one brother in charge of lunch while I went to work on my wretched mop o' chemo curls, which led to me closing my bathroom door so I could say an unholy word to my hair in the mirror. When I returned to the kitchen, the brother in charge had fixed himself a plate and was happily eating while the other two were practically begging for food. I unleashed my wrath on him and said some unkind and hurtful things to him...which goes against the family rules that I constantly remind the boys are so important. Ugh.

I can not speak of the car ride to and from Lego camp. It was too ugly and involved too much shouting.

After Lego camp, we headed to the pool. Goliath reminded me that I am under doctor's orders not to go in the pool until Saturday, but I didn't care. That doctor doesn't have to stay home with three kids all day.

All three of my boys know how to swim. Well, Baby is still learning, but he is plenty tall enough now to touch the pool bottom in most areas. So I can't figure out why they must hang on me, cling to me, grab my legs, jump on my back, etc. while we are in the water. They don't NEED me. And it's not like I don't play with them there! I sure don't sit in a lounge chair like a lot of other mothers and watch them from a distance. I'm right there with them wherever they go. They're not even close to drowning, so I wish they would LET GO.

Goliath had to go to jiu jitsu, which required me to make elaborate arrangements with my friend at the pool, another friend whose son is in the same class, and Hubby. Three kids isn't really that many, but there are times (like today) when it feels like too many! I managed to get Goliath there on time, only to arrive and remember that I still had to sign him in. I had to go into the studio in my swimsuit cover-up and my semi-wet mop 'o curls. Awesome.

I went back to the pool and swam with Baby and Little Middle a while longer. Before I knew it, it was close to 7:00 and there was no way I would have time to cook. Chick-Fil-A for everyone! Oops. A few small someones might have been too busy complaining that there wasn't enough of their particular favorite sauce(s) to say "Thanks, Mom, for picking up dinner for us. We really appreciate all you do." Or maybe they were just too busy spilling 2 (!!!) glasses of water all over the table, floor, and each other.

Enter more brotherly bickering, a few more raised voices, tears, one go-to-your-room-and-don't-come-out-until-tomorrow-morning, and one removal of Wii privileges. I am flying the white flag of mothering...I surrender.

They're great kids (usually). I'm not a bad mom (usually). Just today was not our best...theirs or mine.

Thanks, Lord, for letting me be their mom. Thank you that when I wake up on time tomorrow morning, your mercies will be fresh and new. And thank you for wine. Amen.

Hunting Wabbits

2011-06-13T08:35:00.014-05:00

What do you get if you give a little cowboy a small gun and plenty of wide open space?

Peace and Quiet

2011-06-11T19:21:00.004-05:00

It's Saturday night. My little cowboys are in West Texas starting their summer off right with their grandparents. Hubby is watching the UFC fight at his brother's house. Abby Dog and I shared a Schlotzsky's sandwich and now we are catching up on my recorded DVR shows and enjoying the peace and quiet.

I deserve some peace and quiet, if you don't mind my saying so. We bought a new house and moved. Preschool ended and I watched my Baby graduate. I kept on dragging Goliath and Little Middle out of bed and to school every day, long after every other school district in Texas was done. I had a less-than-enjoyable doctor visit (I am fine.). Finally--FINALLY--Summer 2011 is here! I usually am not a fan of summer. It's way too hot and there is a little too much quality time with the kids. But this year, I am more than ready.

The last day of school was tough. Because of our move, the boys will attend a different elementary school next year. I have done everything possible to get them excited: We visited the school book fair and bought--what else?--Star Wars books. We took a tour of the campus and met the counselor and the principal. We admired the playground. But I know that none of those things make it easy for my sons to leave behind their friends and favorite teachers. There were tears in all of our eyes when we walked out of the doors of their school for the last time.

We celebrated the end of school by heading straight to the pool. The first swim of the season was great! It's already 100+ degrees here. You know what they say about Texas...we have four seasons here: Almost Summer, Summer, Still Summer, and Christmas. Anyway, Baby was triumphant at the pool when I showed him that he is finally tall enough to touch the pool bottom in the lazy river, and that he is tall enough to go down one of the big slides. Victory! Now if we can just get him swimming confidently like his brothers...

We love, love, LOVE our new house. It is nearly twice as big as our old one. Each of the boys has their own bedroom, and they are really enjoying having their own space. I have a huge bathtub, a kitchen with two ceiling fans and more than enough cabinet space, and a laundry room that is an actual room. That hasn't endeared me more to the laundry chore, but it makes it a little easier to keep up! We have nice neighbors and fruit trees in the backyard. Our own little piece of paradise...aaahhh. Of course, no experience in this family is complete without some sort of mishap. We had lived here almost three weeks when our washing machine went berserk and we had a flood. The water in the laundry room was deep enough to cover the top of my foot when I was standing in it. Even worse, the Gain-smelling river ran straight into the hall where we have wood floors. I ran around town like a crazy person before I finally landed at Home Depot, where I rented a wet-vac and made friends with a sympathetic old man with chewing tobacco in his back pocket. With a little help from my good friend Momma Wolg, I managed to suck up the water, but not before it damaged the flooring. The silver lining: My feet smelled nice and felt super-soft from all that sloshing around.

Things have been pretty quiet here in CancerLand. Back in the spring, I went to M.D. Anderson in Houston. MDA has been on my radar for a while, but I haven't felt well enough to make the trip for quite some time. My reason for finally going was two-fold: One, I wanted/needed to get a second opinion about "what's next?" and two, MDA is renowned for their clinical trials and experimental drugs to treat cancer. Having been assured that cancer will forever be a threat, I want in on that action! I spent nearly a week there and during that time, I had every test and met with every specialist imaginable. At the end of the week, I was informed that without a doubt, cancer is not currently present in my body. I worked out a plan to return for scans and to remain under "surveillance" by the staff there. And, I asked about and gratefully accepted a prescription for a drug that I hope will keep cancer at bay for a while. The drug is an anti-estrogen--theoretically, the less estrogen that my body produces, the less chance there is that cancer cells will be able to feed and grow. Nothing is guaranteed, of course, but it would be silly and irresponsible for me to not explore any and all options.

My news about MDA was not greeted with the enthusiasm I had hoped for by Dr. M here in Dallas. In spite of that, he will be performing yet another surgery on me next week to remove my chemo port. I can't say that I'm excited about surgery, but I will be thrilled to have that thing out of my body! Hopefully I won't need one ever again.

With the little boys out of town for a few days, I've had time to explore a new obsession: Pinterest. PandaMom gave me a few pointers, and I am well on my way to digital organization! It makes me feel all artsy and crafty, which I am NOT in real life. Still, it's nice to imagine that one day I might be able to bake a pink heart into the center of my plain-Jane cupcakes or make a wreath out of crayons for Teacher Appreciation week.

Every year I buy Little Middle a new pair of flip flops, and every year he wears them for just a few weeks before he breaks them. Every. Single. Year. When I went to his class party on the last day of school, he was barefoot because his shoe had broken. So I gave up and I bought him a more solid, pricier pair. If they don't last him the rest of the summer, he's just gonna have to wear tennis shoes. That might have sounded heartless when I said it out loud when pulling out of the store parking lot, but Baby assured me, "You're the best mommy we could ever have." Little Middle retorted, "Yeah, but that's 'cause she's the ONLY mommy we can ever have."

And on that note, I'm gonna go enjoy my peace and quiet. Happy Summer!

Boys In My House

2011-06-05T14:48:00.006-05:00

There are boys in my house - and Spiderman shoes
And 200 papers in various blues.
There's Bob (he's a builder) and Thomas the Train,
There's a fireman coat to wear in the rain.
They have cars on their shirts and frogs on their hats
There's a glove and a ball and a red plastic bat.
There's dirt on a face and a smudge on a nose;
Grass stains on knees and sand between toes.
There's bathtime at night with bodies to scrub,
And when we're all done there is dirt in the tub!
There's bandaids and bruises and curious bumps,
There's smiles and laughter and sometimes there's grumps.
There's odors most icky; there's boogers so green
There's more yucky things than I'll ever get clean.
There's piles of laundry; there's stories at night;
There's bedtime and bathtime and dinnertime fights.
There's cars and there's trains and there's books about trucks
There's Scoop, Lofty, Dizzy, and Travis, and Muck.
Sometimes there are bugs, and sometimes there are frogs;
Sometimes they are lions, or dinos, or dogs.
There are cute little vests and darling neckties
Dragged right through the mud - oh what a surprise!
There's running and climbing and jumping and falling
And laughing and crying and hugging and brawling
And rolling and losing and finding and creeping
And whining and stealing and sometimes there's sleeping.
There's tantrums and time outs and extra loud noise -
There's love in my house shaped like three little boys.
--E.J. Kilmer

My Story

2011-05-27T09:49:00.002-05:00

I commit to Jesus, I commit to His followers, I commit to His world.

At my church, this is our motto/mantra/mission statement. I was recently given the opportunity to share part of my story with my church family to reflect my personal commitment and the joy God has given me in my journey.

He is good, and He does good. This is my story.

Baby-isms

2011-04-28T07:32:00.003-05:00

Goliath: "Why are you drinking water with your breakfast, Baby?"
Baby: "Because it's healthy for me. You know what else is healthy for me?"
Goliath: "What?"
Baby: "Pepperoni."

Baby: "Daddy is my buddy."
Me: "That's great! What am I?"
Baby: "You are my minion."

Baby: "Mommy, you know I am having a lot of problems today."
Me: "No...what kind of problems?"
Baby: "Like finger problems and toe problems."

Baby (expressing frustration to himself while playing Super Mario Brothers on the Wii): "I can't believe I only have 64 free men! But thank God I got the freeze balls!"

Homeowners!

2011-04-25T20:49:00.004-05:00

The blog is neglected.
I'm drowning in dirty laundry.
I can't find anything.
I haven't cooked a meal that's worth anything in days.

And here's why:

Today Hubby and I signed final papers for our NEW HOUSE!!!

"Excited" does not begin to cover it! We outgrew our current house a while back--it has gotten smaller as the boys have grown bigger. The new house has plenty of space, both inside and out.

Tonight we picked up dinner at Rosa's and had our first meal in our new house...picnic-style on the kitchen floor. The boys got to bring a few things over for their new rooms. Goliath brought his CD player and his art supplies, Little Middle brought his Lego Star Wars ships, and Baby chose to bring his hats. Even Abby Dog got to come, and she was a big hit with the little girls who live next door!

The five of us are over-the-moon-thrilled about our new place. There is much more work to be done (including the "big" moving day this weekend) before we are settled there. But while I'm making a path through all the U-Haul boxes, I will be thankful. He has given us so much!

P.S. I promise that when the move is done, the blog will be revived.

Do's and Don'ts for the Chemo Room

2011-04-05T20:46:00.007-05:00

In honor of my LAST day in the chemo room (!!!), I have put together a little list of do's and don'ts for basic etiquette. I tell the little cowboys all the time that manners matter...even in the chemo room. Here's what and what not to do.

1. DO mind your own business. We might have to share nurses, but my cancer is mine and your cancer is yours.

2. DO NOT ask me every time you see me if I've tried the peppermint-flavored water. Maybe I don't like peppermint. Or maybe I don't like water. Probably I'm running out of polite responses.

3. DO wear a nose strip if it keeps you from snoring while you nap.

4. DO NOT talk about nose hair. I do not want to hear about whether you have it or not, nor do I care to know whether blowing your nose is easier during allergy season if said nose hair has begun to grow back.

5. DO keep private information private. Just like sex, any conversation about bodily fluids and/or functions easily lends itself to a TMI label.

6. DO NOT offer to share your neck pillow or blanket with me. Ick.

7. DO NOT ask me about the specifics of my case. Chances are that I hate being here, and having to rehash the depressing details with a stranger only makes me hate it more.

8. DO cover your head. Chemotherapy is a beast, and we all know it. There is no need to flaunt what it has stolen from you, thereby reminding the rest of us what we have also lost.

9. DO NOT, under any circumstances, wear pajamas, a housecoat, your slippers, or a crown to the chemo room. No way can you keep your dignity if you do.

10. DO wear a bra. Please.

11. DO NOT say things like "These pole covers are so cute!" or "That was easy, wasn't it?" Nothing in the chemo room is cute or easy to deal with.

12. DO be very careful what you eat in the chemo room. Because Mexican food and chemotherapy don't mix.

Happy Birthday, Little Middle!

2011-03-25T22:04:00.006-05:00

Dear Little Middle,

Today you turned 7 years old. Seven! Tonight, even as I write this, you and several of your friends are running like wild men through our house. They've been invited to your birthday party--your first sleepover! (You made sure that I knew that girls have slumber parties, but boys have sleepovers. Big difference.) Daddy and I are exhausted, but every balloon, pizza slice, and drained juice box is absolutely worth it for the big smile that you are wearing on your face.

I wonder how many more birthdays you will celebrate before I stop calling you my "little" middle? I would guess a lifetime's worth, but you're not so little anymore, are you? I became more aware of it over the last few months when people started commenting that you look so tall...and then you outgrew all of your pants to prove it. Your long legs and big feet are constant reminders that you are well on your way to dwarfing me!

First grade has been an adventure, hasn't it? God was good and blessed you with another fabulous teacher this year. Lucky for us, she is a sports fan. That has motivated you to enjoy the classroom and put forth a good effort at school. Otherwise, your grades might reflect your overall learning philosophy: If it's something that interests you, it's worth learning. Otherwise, you don't waste time on it. Same with reading. Every time we go to the library, you make a beeline for the animal non-fiction section. You know exactly which shelves house the books about snakes, lizards, crocodiles, and other creepy crawlies. Those books are pretty much the only ones you want to read...and I suspect that it's just as much for the pictures as anything else!

In spite of your limited repertoire, you've become a good reader this year. You read all of your own birthday cards today. What fun! I still remember when you first read Dr. Seuss to me. You've come a long way since then!

Aside from icky animals, your other two affections are still Star Wars and Legos. I cleaned out your closet earlier this week, and I could not believe how many teeny tiny Lego pieces I picked up! They were everywhere. Your creativity is astonishing, though. You will easily sit for an hour or more at a time while you are building something. I often find you sitting on your closet floor, surrounded by the small, colorful blocks.

I tried to steer you away from a Star Wars-themed birthday party this year, but I failed miserably. This is your third one in a row. I guess nothing comes close to the awesomeness that happened long long ago in a galaxy far far away.

Over the last few months the dynamics of your relationships with Goliath and Baby have begun to change. You and Baby still are (and always will be, I think) the best of friends. But as friends sometimes do, you get on each other's nerves. I see your desire to be included in more "big boy" stuff--namely, whatever your big brother has going on. Many afternoons, I am walking a fine line between giving you the independence you need and giving him the privacy he needs. Hang in there, buddy. Your time is coming. It won't be long before you will come and go with your friends and ride your bike around the neighborhood minus a parent. Trust me on this.

Our family dynamics have changed some over the past year, too. The Year You Were Six will forever be marked as the Year of the Sickness. How I hope and pray you don't remember it when you're all grown up! I have spent a lot of time feeling guilty over my perceived failures as your mother--like when I had to stop volunteering at your school, when I couldn't go on your field trip, and when I had to trust someone else to take care of you because I wasn't able to. But then I step back and take a good look at you. I realize that there are some things that life--cancer included--can not change: it can't change the fact that God created you to be exactly what He wants you to be. And He made you for me. No one else could be your mother. God picked ME. And you know what, Little Middle? I think I am the luckiest mom in the whole wide world.

You make me so happy, my sweet 7-year-old. And no matter how big you get, you will always be my Little Middle.

Love,

Mom

They're Different, All Right!

2011-03-22T15:55:00.004-05:00

I am constantly amazed at the very distinct personalities that my 3 little cowboys have. In spite of their close ages and relationships, they are not as similar as you would think. Here are a few ways they are different, and how we celebrate them (usually)!

Sandwiches
Goliath: Salami with mustard
Little Middle: Turkey with mayonnaise
Baby: Cheese with mayonnaise

Music
Goliath: Likes to sing
Little Middle: Would rather eat dirt than go to choir
Baby: To sing or not to sing?...that is the question.

Big Issues
Goliath: Worries. About. Everything.
Little Middle: Goes with the flow.
Baby: Lets everyone else do the worrying for him.

Animals
Goliath: Horses
Little Middle: Dogs
Baby: Buffaloes and longhorns

Hobbies
Goliath: cooking, hunting, and cooking what he hunts
Little Middle: hunting, fishing, and Legos
Baby: video games

Reading
Goliath: Loves it!
Little Middle: Can, but doesn't want to.
Baby: Doesn't know how.

Chick-Fil-A Sauce
Goliath: Ranch
Little Middle: Ketchup
Baby: Polynesian

Clothes
Goliath: khaki shorts and t-shirts
Little Middle: "soft" shorts and Star Wars t-shirts
Baby: jeans and cowboy boots

Favorite Thing to Do With Mom
Goliath: Get ice cream at Marble Slab
Little Middle: Roller skating
Baby: Playing Wii

Favorite Thing to Do With Dad
Goliath: Riding horses
Little Middle: Hunting
Baby: Playing Wii

Playtime
Goliath: Jump on the trampoline
Little Middle: Lego
Baby: Anything outside

Movies
Goliath: Bronco Billy
Little Middle: Star Wars
Baby: Rango

One Word
Goliath: Passionate
Little Middle: Sweet
Baby: Funny

Hair Update

2011-03-10T13:16:00.007-06:00

It's been a while since I posted an update on my hair. Most of ya'll are too polite to ask about it, but the subject still comes up every now and then. So, here's what inquiring minds want to know: My hair is growing. In fact, I got it cut a few weeks back. I didn't cut it because it has grown to an unmanageable length, though. Don't get too excited! I cut it because it will grow faster and better if I do some upkeep on it, or so I am told. What I secretly am hoping for is that there will be magic in those scissors, and it will begin to grow in a completely new way. What's coming in now is a weird texture (curly) and a weird color (mud). I much prefer my old texture (straight, at least with the help of a flat iron) and my old color (salon-blonde). That's what my "pretend" hair is, and that's what I will wear until...well, until I say otherwise. The curly mud grows on, though, all crazy-like--so much so that it must be restrained these days. I have to wear a grippy headband-type thing to hold it back before I smush it all up inside the pretend hair. Wig-wearing was easier when I was completely bald!

I wish I could say that looking in the mirror is easier these days, but that wouldn't be exactly true. Besides the mop o' mess, I am annoyed at the pasty white color of my skin. I am disgusted by the weight I lost last year and have managed to put back on (The Sickness and I will share the blame on this one). I have HAD IT! with the little zit that keeps showing up on my chin, regardless of how often I wash my face. I'm not 14 anymore, for crying out loud!

For as long as I can remember caring, I have always wanted to __________. Have better hair...lose weight...apply makeup like an expert...have clear skin...update my wardrobe--you can fill in the blank with almost anything that equates with prettiness. I don't feel much more comfortable in my body as a grown woman than I did in the awkward-for-everyone adolescent stage.

Understandable?

Maybe.

Sinful?

Probably.

Truthful?

Absolutely.

The Sickness has forced my hand in a lot of areas, but this is a big one for me. When Goliath was a baby, I used to recite this Bible verse to him (we had fun hand motions and everything!):

"I will praise you, O Lord, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful, and my soul knows it full well." Psalm 139:14

Now, if I could be so easily convinced that God took perfect care to weave my son together, what makes me think He would just toss together a few ingredients and hope for the best when it came to me? And if I could so readily and easily praise Him for the three miracles that are Goliath, Little Middle, and Baby, why would I neglect to praise Him for the miracle that I am?

Any good 12-step program will tell you that the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem. I have a problem with my self-image. The next steps in my "recovery" can be found in the pages of my Bible, where it says that I am special and loved...cancer, curls, and all.

Weekend Getaway

2011-02-27T19:40:00.005-06:00

For quite a while now, this weekend has been circled on my calendar. My BFF Caroline managed to get tickets to a Chris Tomlin/Christy Nockels/Louie Giglio concert, and Friday was the big night! I left work early on Friday and drove to Houston. Just being alone in the car would have almost made the whole trip worthwhile! I dropped in on my brother and SIL just long enough to freshen up, then headed to Caroline's house. We enjoyed dinner at the Black Walnut...YUM!...and made it to the concert with time to spare.

This show was a salve for my soul. The "concert" could more accurately be described as a corporate worship experience. Thousands of people singing "Yes, Jesus Loves Me" and "How Great Is Our God" together was more than enough to give me chills. The best part for me, though, was Chris's rendition of "Amazing Grace" (with "My Chains Are Gone"). I don't cry much these days--there's too much "stuff" piled up on me. But the words of that precious hymn were as fresh to me as the first time I believed them. I linked my arm through Caroline's, leaning on her like I have many times over the years, and brushed tears away with my free hand. It truly felt like God was blowing the dust off the surface of my heart and stirring something that has laid dormant for a long time. I'm so thankful.

Meanwhile, my brother was working some magic on my behalf. He's got friends in high places (Hi, Clay!), and he was able to get us passes for the meet-and-greet after the show. Caroline and I were thrilled to be able to meet Chris Tomlin!

On Saturday, I had lunch with my grandparents. We went to the Olive Garden, and it couldn't have been more lovely if I'd had high tea with the Queen herself! Look at my cute Buck and Grandmama checking out the menu:

And here I am with them and Gran. I'm pretty fond of these three people!

I had a delightful time just hanging out with my brother and his Other. Phil and Chelsea, you made me so comfortable in your home and so happy. I love, love, LOVE you both!

I headed home feeling refreshed and satisfied. Of course, no trip would be complete unless something weird happened. Or maybe two somethings: 1) I was driving north on I-45, minding my own business, when I saw a field with some horses...and a zebra. Huh? 2) I stopped at Buc-ees, which is a legend in its own right in Texas. This was in front of me:

You might be a redneck if you only wear socks to pump gas. And yes, I took a picture...because that's how I roll. Sorry, Mom.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-02-23T05:30:00.009-06:00

Barbara

2011-02-21T20:32:00.007-06:00

Almost thirty years ago, my parents moved our (then) family of four to Oak Ridge, a little suburb just north of Houston. The doors on the moving van had barely shut when we set out on the hunt for a new church home. We found that home at Oak Ridge Baptist Church--back then, it was known as "that big white church by the freeway." We hadn't been there very long when our family first got to know, and then to love, the Wolfe family.

Joe and Barbara and their sons Jody and Jamie were a typical American family in a lot of ways. Joe was a CPA who looked for any excuse to go fishing, Barbara taught school and took care of her family. They were atypical in a few ways, too. Joe suffered from polio as a child, and the effects of that followed him into adulthood, making it more and more difficult to walk. Jamie had muscular dystrophy. As the years went by, the muscles in his body atrophied until finally he was wheelchair-bound.

You might think that life dealt this precious family a particularly unfair hand. Not one of them would have agreed with you. The love they had for each other and for God was unwavering. They approached life with enthusiasm and lots of laughter. Their faith got them through the darker days, and they made sure that God got full credit and glory in all things, good or bad. I watched them carefully through the years, especially Barbara. I couldn't have known then that I, too, would be the only girl in a house full of boys. She poured everything she had into her family and her church. I know she worked harder than I can even imagine, but no one that I know ever once heard her complain.

I grew up and moved away from my family and my church. My parents moved to the other side of Houston just a few months later. It's hard to keep in touch with people you don't see often, but we loved those Christmas letters Barb and Joe sent out! They were just as funny as being with them in person. I finished school, got married, and Hubby and I started our life together. As a young wife, Barb often came to mind as a role model for the kind of wife I wanted to be for my husband. The thought of her always made me smile.

Then tragedy struck for our friend. In just a few years' time, Barbara lost her husband and both of her sons. Three lives...three loves...three funerals. Then, the unthinkable. She was diagnosed with breast cancer, and later, ovarian cancer. Cancer seemed to those of us on the outside to be the greatest injustice, just adding insult to injury for someone who deserved it the least.

Barb fought hard. She endured multiple chemotherapy protocols. She lost her hair, grew it back, and lost it again. She continued to teach a women's Sunday School class. She continued to encourage and uplift other people, even though her suffering must have been great. I know she did, because one of those people was me.

Barbara's last scan showed tumors growing all over her body. She moved in with her parents, and was placed under hospice care within weeks. On Valentine's Day, God showed mercy and called her home. I wish I could have caught just a glimpse of her three able-bodied boys running to meet her! What a perfect day for a perfect homecoming!

The last time I saw Barbara was at my brother's wedding in September. She sat in an aisle seat during the ceremony, and several of their wedding pictures have her in the background, smiling like witnessing Phil and Chelsea's love and vows was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She gave me a big hug that day and reminded me to keep on fighting the good fight. She told me that even cancer was no match for the power that I have through Christ. Cancer took Barb's earthly life, but whatever she is experiencing now is nothing to be mourned. Indeed, He has turned her mourning into dancing!

The summer that I was about the same age that my Goliath is now, Barbara was my VBS teacher. During that week of VBS, she challenged us to memorize Psalm 100. I met that challenge, and all these years later, that Scripture passage is still hidden deep in my heart.

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.

Worship the Lord with gladness;

come before Him with joyful songs.

Know that the Lord is God.

It is He who has made us, and we are his.

We are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving

and into his courts with praise;

give thanks to him and praise his name.

For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;

his faithfulness continues through all generations.

That, my friends, is quite a legacy. To be not just a teacher, but a doer of the Word...to make lifelong impacts on people...to believe He is good even when it doesn't seem like it, and to proclaim His faithfulness to anyone who will listen...that is who Barbara was. And it's who I long to be.

Well done, good and faithful servant. Well done.

Allyson, Phil, and Barbara--August 2010

On This Day...

2011-02-17T19:05:00.008-06:00

One year ago today, I sat in stunned silence as my oncologist told me that there were new tumors growing in my body.

The year that has passed since February 17, 2010 has been harder than I could have ever imagined it could be. Not one single day has gone by that I have not lived and breathed the reality of cancer. I have been sicker than I ever thought possible. I have had to rely on my friends and family to care for me, and even worse, to care for my children. I've had to try to explain things to my sons that no child should ever have to even think about, let alone live with. I've listened to my husband cry in the middle of the night when he thought I was asleep. I've been poked, cut, prodded, and tested, and I've swallowed hundreds of pills. I've lost my hair. I've lost my dignity. I've lost my confidence.

Today, in a twist of irony, I had another appointment with Dr. M. I was going to find out the results of the CT scan I had on Tuesday and hear his advice on how to proceed with treatment. After several heart-stopping moments where I strained to hear his conversation with Nurse Michelle in the hallway, he entered the exam room and pronounced that no new tumors showed up on the scan. A great deal of back-and-forth ensued. I will spare you the details, but the bottom line is this: I will continue with the cytoxan/Avastin maintenance regimen for a few more months. At the end of that time, I will go for another scan and if all remains unchanged, I will be declared to be in remission and this leg of the cancer journey will be over.

You'd think that with the end in sight, I'd be thrilled, right? Actually, I am terrified. The news on my latest scan is good, no doubt about it. But to me, it's not a sigh of relief...it's just a delay of the inevitable. I've been told more than once that the cancer will surely invade my body again. Just because it isn't there now doesn't mean it isn't coming.

Dr. M was prepared to release me from treatment today. He saw things through different lenses than I do, however. He looks at me and sees a challenge, a science experiment, a few dollar signs, and maybe an opportunity. I look in the mirror and see a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, and a mother. The whole time he talked to me (or sometimes over me) today, all I could see in my mind's eye were my 3 little cowboys. Their faces were so clear, in fact, that I did something a lot of people might think is ridiculous: I chose to continue chemo. I couldn't picture myself tucking my boys into bed at night, knowing that I could have done more to prevent The Sickness from recurring. I've come this far...what's a few more months?

So I will press on. I will do every treatment I can within the time frame I've been given. Cancer is a terrible disease. I hate those abnormal silent cells with everything I have. And February 17th? I don't care for it much, either. But next year, I will be able to look back and remember that this is the day I chose to finish strong.

After the appointment, my mom and I had lunch together. There's nothing worse than crying in a restaurant with people all around you laughing and enjoying their lunches. I am just so sad. Even good scan results feel like a burden to carry. I am well aware that this sounds like a woe-is-me, glass-half-empty kind of narrative. I don't mean it that way at all. In fact, just in the few hours since I saw the doctor, I hugged two friends, laughed with my boys, kissed my husband, talked to my sister, and snuggled my dog. I am blessed beyond measure. It's just that I am at sort of a breaking point with The Sickness...it seems to be controlling me more than I am controlling it.

The mug said it all.

For Hubby

2011-02-14T06:04:00.002-06:00

I'd rather dance through minefields with you than walk through life by myself. I am thankful for our promise. I love you.

Baby Scone

2011-02-13T05:51:00.010-06:00

Dear Baby Scone,

Before I say anything else, I want to say that I love you. The news of your existence brought great joy to our family! Knowing you were on your way to be with us was like the first pretty day after a long, cold winter. I loved you from the minute I found out about you.

Last week when your mommy and daddy went to the doctor to check on you, your heart had stopped beating.

And just like that, our breath of fresh air vanished and we were thrust back into what feels like a never-ending winter.

Your mommy and daddy are devastated. They had been so thrilled about you! Your daddy had a LOT of work to do to get your room cleared out, but he was over the moon about you. Your mommy is one of the most laid back, even-keeled people I know, but she was giddy about you. She and I had already been shopping for you, planning how to decorate your room. We took hours walking through Babies R Us, deciding which "paraphernalia" was good enough for you and which looked silly. You would have had the best of everything.

And that's the thing that gets me, Baby Scone. We already adored you. You would have been loved and taken care of no matter what. So I don't understand why you can't BE.

Because I love you and I love your mommy so much, I went to be with her. Nana and Poppy came, too. We all went back to the doctor with her, and we left there with broken hearts and a sonogram picture. That black and white picture is all we have left of you, but I know it will be one of your mommy's greatest treasures. It shows you, fearfully and wonderfully made. I could clearly see your two little legs and two little arms. One arm was sticking up and out--would you have been a fighter? Oh, and your head. Your head was gigantic, just like your auntie's. I'm sorry about that.

It was a cold, raw day--just perfect for how we felt. Your mommy, your Nana, and I sat on the sofa in our pajamas, watching the wind howling outside. Your mommy cried, and we cried with her. Because that is all that we can do. We can't get you back, we can't fix it, we can't understand. So we grieve.

I want you to know that the adults aren't the only ones who adore you. Your cowboy cousins had big plans for you. They were unanimous in their decision that you should be a boy (they don't understand that it wasn't really up to them!), and that they would teach you everything you need to know about boy stuff. They had great ideas about hunting and fishing trips that they would take with you. They also thought you might enjoy coming to our house with your daddy and all of you could go to Monster Jam. I was not invited because I am a girl.

If the boy thing didn't work out, however, the three of them agreed that they could deal with a girl cousin. The contingency plan was that you could still come visit and we would all bake and decorate cookies together. Then they would play Wii and you could go shopping with your mommy and me. Specifically, we would go to Target. They are crazy--and they would have been crazy about you.

I have not told them yet that we no longer have you. I guess I'm a little afraid...because how can I explain to my sons something that I can't understand myself?

Your mommy and daddy are great people. They really love each other. They like to have fun together and they laugh a lot. Before there was you, all of their extra affections were heaped on their dogs, Lucy and Moose. Your mommy is SO pretty, and your daddy's not bad, either (especially his hair, which he protects with a fierceness that leaves him wide open to mockery). You would have been a beautiful baby. Your parents are also food snobs. Your dad looks down on regular cheddar cheese with disdain, always opting instead for the weirdest, hard-to-pronounce blocks of cheese in the deli. This is why you are called Scone. It would never do for your mommy to have a plain old bun in the oven.

Most importantly, your mommy and daddy love Jesus. They would have taken you to church. They would have talked to you about Jesus and taught you that He loves you. They would have prayed for you, and as you got older, they would have taught you what it means to be a person of faith and to walk with Christ, just like they do. They believe that God made you and gave you life, and that your little heart was in His hands. All of us who love you are heartbroken and desperately trying to come up with some plausible reason for the loss of wonderful, perfect you.

I love you, Baby Scone. You will always be a part of our family. You can not be replaced or forgotten. I believe that I will see you in heaven. And when I get there, let's bake some cookies together, OK?

Love,

Aunt Allyson

"The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD." Job 1:21

Confessions

2011-02-01T06:34:00.006-06:00

Old Man Winter blew into our city last night with a vengeance, and it seems he is settling in for a few days. I have some excited little cowboys who are not going to school today. It's going to be a Netflix-watching, pajama-wearing kind of day.

And I have to confess that it won't be the first day that I've stayed in my pjs recently. I've had a rough go of it lately. It started on my last treatment day, when the woman in the chair next to me cried the whole time. It was her first chemo treatment, and she was scared. Part of me wanted to comfort her, but most of me was annoyed and angry--angry that she had to be there, angry that I had to be there, and angry at cancer in general. That treatment room is a terrible place. Cutesy ribbons and bows on the IV poles and cheery green plants on a desk can not disguise the reality of what goes on there. It's awful, and I hate it.

The side effects of last week's treatment were tough. They always are, but for some reason I had a more difficult time bouncing back. My emotional state is directly related, to a degree, to my physical pain. The more my body hurts, the more my heart hurts. Tuesdays are treatment days. I typically go pretty early in the morning, and I am back home by lunch time. I like to stop off at Schlotzsky's on my way home and grab lunch, sort of like a reward for myself for enduring the morning. My order is always the same: a small original sandwich, hold the lettuce, onion, and tomato. I get home, change into my pajamas, pop the first of several pain pills, and eat my sandwich. Then I put my best game face on, deal with it, and wait to feel better.

Only this time, Wednesday morning came and I did nothing. I didn't shower or change clothes. I didn't put on makeup. I didn't dig deep and look for the silver lining. I'm not even sure I brushed my teeth. I just let myself be sad. I looked for the closest pool of self-pity and jumped in. I watched kid TV with Baby during the day, and when it came time for church that evening, I did not make the boys go. It was just too much effort. Good mom, right?

Then it was Thursday. I had to do something very hard that brought to light some tough issues. I've said it before, and I'll say it again here: I am not the only one affected by The Sickness. My suffering is not solitary; the sorrow isn't isolated. On that particular day, it simply felt like more than I could bear.

On Friday night, my family chose from these three options for dinner: blueberry Eggos, chocolate chip Eggos, and cinnamon microwave pancakes. Again, the mundane everyday task of preparing a meal required more than I had to give.

I am facing another scan within the next couple of weeks, followed by a meeting with Dr. M. That meeting will determine what we do next. I asked my chemo nurse, and she said he more than likely will want me to continue with the maintenance chemo, in spite of its "uncomfortable" side effects. The reasons are solid: theoretically, the longer I suppress cancer cells with the chemo, the longer it will be before they can grow again. Makes sense.

But the anxiety and depression I feel knowing what's coming is ridiculous. Nearly one year after the start of Chapter 2, I still find it hard to believe that this will be the rest of my life. When I started this journey, I said that I did not want to lose myself and be identified by The Sickness. But more and more, I am afraid that is exactly what has happened. Pretty much everything I do (or don't do--i.e. cooking dinner!) is determined by how strong or sick I feel. I don't make plans without checking to see when my next treatment day will be. I don't laugh like I used to, or even cry like I used to. Not too long ago, I watched Steel Magnolias with my Bible Study sisters, and I didn't shed a tear when Shelby died. Not one. I was stone-faced when M'Lynn lost it in the cemetery. And I can't remember for certain, but I don't think I even laughed when Clairee offered up Ouiser as a sacrifice for her friend.

I am reading a book right now titled The Gift of an Ordinary Day by Katrina Kenison. The author is a mother of two sons, and the book is her memoir. In reading, I have captured a glimpse of what I want more than anything: plain old, ordinary days. Mornings that allow me to sleep as late as I want to instead of my wake-up time being dictated by last night's medication. Afternoons that are open for game-playing or park-going or just plain lazing around with my cowboys. Evenings that invite us to share a home-cooked meal on the back patio and count the airplanes that fly by or wonder about the rooster that we can hear through our neighbor's fence. Days that are blank squares on my calendar instead of doctor appointments. Days that don't involve pills or IVs. Days that I can look in the mirror and like what I see. Normal. Is that really too much to ask for?

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch...

2011-01-25T19:31:00.004-06:00

I apologize that it is taking so long to get the Disney posts up on the blog. Life was waiting for us when we got back from our trip, and we have been swept up in it these last few weeks. Here are a few of the (some lame, but all very real) reasons I have not gotten blogging done lately:

*Mount Laundry. 'Nuff said.

*In working on the aforementioned laundry, I found 3 quarters, 1 nickel, 4 pennies, 2 Nerf darts, 1 school paper, 1 pencil, 9 socks without matches, and 1 ketchup packet in various boy pockets....all in one afternoon.

*While I was unpacking all the luggage from our trip, it struck me that it was the perfect time to clean house. Like, really clean house. I have been cleaning out drawers, closets, and cabinets with a vengeance. Our garbage man probably hates us; Goodwill is gonna love us. I told Hubby it's like nesting, only without the baby.

*Speaking of babies..."Aunt Allyson" sounds nice, doesn't it? My sister and her mister are expecting their first baby at the end of the summer!

*As joyful as I am about that news, I am sorrowful about other. I have a friend who, from a medical standpoint, is fighting a losing battle with ovarian and breast cancer. I wish I could understand God so much more than what I do.

*My Tuesday Sisters Bible Study group have become temporary NOGs! We are doing the "No Other Gods" study by Kelly Minter. It has inspired me to take a hard look at my life and what things might be taking more of my time, energy, and/or resources than they should. One of those things is media, namely, the computer. Sorry, e-mail, Facebook, and even precious blog. I need to back off a bit.

*We got a Keurig coffee machine for Christmas. It has rocked my mornings.

*I've gotten up early the last two Saturday mornings and met sweet friends for breakfast. Great conversation and delicious pancakes...nice.

*Goliath went on his first overnight church event (read: didn't need his mom) this past weekend. If you know anything of his issues with separation anxiety that have come about as a result of The Sickness, you know that this is HUGE. What's more, his best little buddy got sick at the last minute and was unable to go. Goliath chose to go on his own and had a great time. I'm a proud and thankful mama.

*I am back to making weekly menus. The week's menu is posted on the side of the fridge, so everyone knows what to expect. It is much easier to make and stick with a grocery list, too. I spent less than $100 at the store this week for the first time in a long while. Go me!

*In just a couple of months, I will register Baby for kindergarten. Yesterday while we were getting ready for preschool, I said, "Baby, you're growing up too fast. I wish you would stay little just a while longer." He replied, "Mom, your plan is stinky mcstinkersons." Sigh.

So there you have it. Blogging, especially of the Disney trip sort, will resume slowly but surely.

Disney: Day 3

2011-01-25T13:17:00.015-06:00

We spent Day 3 at Disney World at Animal Kingdom. I was particularly excited about this day for 2 reasons: 1) My Little Middle is an animal lover! I knew that he would have the best time at the park...and 2) It was Goliath's 9th birthday!

We had breakfast inside the park at the Tusker House restaurant. What fun for my birthday boy to meet some important friends first thing in the morning!

My future veterinarian is ready to get going.

This guy was interesting both to look at and listen to.

One of the first things we did was head for the Kilamanjaro Safari ride. We loved this attraction that epitomizes Animal Kingdom! It was amazing to see all those plants and animals up close and living as they would in their natural habitats.

Another favorite ride was in DinoLand. The TriceraTop Spin is similar to the famous flying Dumbos in the Magic Kingdom. Mom and I laughed hysterically at how silly we must have looked riding this over and over again!

You can't celebrate your birthday at the Animal Kingdom without getting your face painted.

In order for all the creatures to be fed and cared for, the Animal Kingdom closes earlier than the other parks. Little Middle was bummed about that, but the four adults were fine because we knew what was coming later that night: a BIG birthday surprise! We went back to our hotel and as soon as we had all cleaned up a bit, we were off again. One bus, one monorail, and one short walk later, we arrived on the dock at Bay Lake. This was waiting for us:

It took Goliath a moment to understand that the awesome boat with the Happy Birthday banner was for him. As realization spread over his face, a big smile broke out. He wasn't the only happy one!

This birthday boat tour was amazing! The only other person on board besides our family was Austin, the skipper/tour guide. He took us all around the lake, pointing out different Disney properties and attractions. We enjoyed snacks and drinks while Austin shared interesting Disney World tidbits. He was great with the boys!

After a while, Austin positioned the boat where we had a spectacular view of Cinderella's castle. At exactly 8:00, the fireworks show began. We didn't say much while we watched--we were all transfixed by the magic!

As the last fireworks erupted in the night sky, I'm sure Mickey himself could hear the sigh of contentment come from our boat.

Austin docked the boat and we all climbed out. Goliath handed his life jacket over, and said, "That was the most awesome birthday I've ever had." I will never EVER forget my boy's pure happiness on his special day.

Disney: Day 2

2011-01-12T05:34:00.010-06:00

We spent our first full day at Disney World at Hollywood Studios. Some thoughtful and kind friends had rented a motorized scooter for me to use. At first, I was hesitant (as I always am!) to use it, thereby outwardly identifying myself as "weak" or "different." It didn't take long, though, for me to give up that silly notion and hop aboard! Without that scooter, there is no way I could have done half as much as I did while we were on vacation.

The little cowboys took turns riding with Mommy on the scooter. To them, it was as great as another amusement ride! It was also a good way to shuffle the little guys back to the bus at the end of a long day of walking.

Our first stop at Hollywood Studios was Hollywood and Vine, where we had breakfast. This is where we were introduced to Mickey Mouse waffles--yummy! (The food, by the way, was an experience all its own on this trip. I'll post about that separately.)

We met Leo and June from the Little Einsteins.

Dad and Handy Manny compared notes on fix-it issues.

Goliath and his Poppy

Just as we finished up with our breakfast, I saw familiar figures out the window. We made a mad dash to get our pictures made with Pooh and Piglet!

The Honey, I Shrunk the Kids playground was a hit! The boys loved exploring familiar scenes from the movie. I posed for a picture with my guys on Antie, and I may or may not have climbed a huge spider web and slid down a blade of grass.

The whole family enjoyed the "Lights, Motors, Action!" stunt show. There was plenty of tire-squealing and crazy driving for Hubby to admire, fire and falling for the boys to oooohh and aaaahh over, and to the rest of us...it was just plain interesting to see how a movie is put together!

Speaking of movies, we also loved the Backlot Tour. We saw some interesting things, but none was better for my boys than watching this sequence of events for a "movie:"

If they would have let me hop off the moving tram, I could have spent hours in this costume shop!

One of the planes used in the movie "Pearl Harbor."

For lunch, we went to the 50's Prime Time Cafe. There are 2 things I will always remember about that lunch hour. 1) Our waiter was hilarious. Too bad I'm the only one who thought so. He made all the groups in his section introduce themselves to one another, he refused my son when he ordered an ice cream sundae, and he called my dad Max. 2) My mother said at least 100 times, "This is just how it used to be."

This is just how it used to be.

The cowboys enjoyed the first of what was to be many ice cream sundaes.

Enchanted is one of my favorite movies. How could I not get my picture made with Queen Narissa (even though I'm a little scared of her)?

On our way to more rides, we passed by a street show. We stopped to watch, and guess who got to be part of it?

Look closer...

That's my Little Middle, helping to direct!

Poppy and Nana with their grandboys.

Our family in 3D!

My first love...

and my life love.

Our favorite attractions for Day 2:

Hubby--Toy Story Mania

Me--The Beauty and the Beast Show

Goliath--Tower of Terror

Little Middle--Tower of Terror
Baby--Toy Story Mania

Disney: Day 1

2011-01-11T18:05:00.006-06:00

On the morning of New Year's Eve, we were up early, packed and ready to travel! A friend arranged for transportation to the airport, and we were thrilled to meet our driver, Steve. He showed up at my house in a big (brand new) van, wearing an even bigger smile. What a great way to start our trip!

At the airport, the boys showed a healthy fear of the dreaded Security. No one was patted down or even delayed, so we made it to the terminal with plenty of time to spare. While the rest of us took turns entertaining the boys, Dad served as the Keeper of the Stuff.

On our way to Florida!

We got to Florida late in the afternoon. We were able to bypass the baggage claim and head straight to our hotel, courtesy of Disney's Magical Express. We stayed at the Caribbean Beach Resort, one of Disney's best. The little cowboys were thrilled with the Nemo/beach theme in the rooms and the pool that was just feet from the doors to our rooms.

After we dumped our things, we grabbed a bite to eat in the hotel's marketplace cafe and then caught a shuttle bus to the Magic Kingdom. It didn't take long to realize that we weren't the only people who thought it would be great to spend New Year's Eve in the MK! It was crowded. But the atmosphere was so fun--like one huge party! People were clapping, blowing noise makers, and celebrating everywhere we went. We rode a few family favorites, including Big Thunder Mountain Railroad (Baby's first real roller coaster--he loved it!!!), Pirates of the Caribbean, and Aladdin's Magic Carpets before we finally called it a day and headed back for some much-needed rest.

It was one of the few times they didn't ask to stay up "just a few more minutes PLEASE?". We were all so tired from a long day of travel, but we fell into bed beyond happy to be where we were.

Happy Birthday, Goliath!

2011-01-07T17:27:00.009-06:00

Dear Goliath,

For the first time in your life, my birthday letter to you is late. Luckily, my excuse is a good one: you turned 9 while we were at Disney World! There could not have been a better way to celebrate!

Nine. WOW! How can I be old enough to have a nine-year-old? And how can that nine-year-old be YOU? It seems like it wasn't that long ago that I was watching it snow outside the hospital window while I waited for you to make your grand arrival.

Not everything has been grand for us this year, though, has it precious boy? There are lots of people who have been affected by my illness, but probably none more than you. You have gone through so much. No little boy should ever have to see what you have seen or feel what you have felt, and I wish with every ounce of my being that I could erase those things for you. Cancer has made an ugly mark on you. You exhibit real separation anxiety, to a degree that you didn't show even as a baby. You want to be with me, or at least know where I am, all the time. You are fearful that I will forget to pick you up (or maybe not come back at all?) when we are apart. You worry about most everything--from the Sickness down to buying your lunch at school. You have extreme mood swings. One minute you're happy and all is right with the world, and the next minute you're fussing at anyone who dares get in your way.

My goodness, I'm making you sound like an awful kid. I hope you know that isn't the case at all. I think you're the best kid ever. Daddy and I have been proud of how you have navigated these uncharted waters. Not too many boys have moms with cancer. You've been very brave, even when it hasn't been easy.

Of course, cancer or no cancer, the world keeps spinning. You have done a lot of growing up this year. You love to be with your friends, and we have slowly allowed you more freedom. You really enjoy riding your bike and meeting up with your buddies at the park in our neighborhood, or at someone's house to play. The rule is that you MUST stay wherever you say you're going unless you call me to tell me otherwise. Only once have I gone to the park and discovered that you had moved on to a friend's house without calling. The consequences--or maybe the embarrassment of discipline in front of your friends--made that the first and last time you committed that particular crime!

Speaking of consequences, Daddy and I have found that it is necessary to be more creative. Writing sentences, yard work, and cleaning up dog poop in the backyard are all effective punishments for you. I was temporarily stumped on the day that you TP'd our living room, but after you had to clean up all the toilet paper and use it as your very own, I feel confident that you will never EVER do that again!

You still enjoy school, although math has become more difficult and much less enjoyable for you. I try my best to help you with your homework, but sometimes I don't even understand it! Why they ever replaced tried-and-true methods like carrying and borrowing with regrouping and drawing pictures is beyond me. Your teachers have been simply amazing. No doubt these professionals were hand-picked just for you by God. You have been loved and cared for at school--what a gift!

You are old enough this year to participate in extracurricular clubs at school. When the paper came home at the beginning of the school year, you surprised me by saying you wanted to join a club. Then you surprised me again by picking Soccer Club! I totally had you pegged for the Chess Club. Silly me. You have really enjoyed playing, and I am so proud of you for trying something new.

You've also shown a real interest lately in cooking. You asked Santa Claus for a kids' cookbook, and the look on your face when you opened it up on Christmas morning was priceless! Although you are a little messy in the kitchen, I try to bite my tongue because a) I love that you are learning a new skill, and b) I love spending that quality time with you.

You still think that girls are icky and that kissing is gross (and that's fine with me!). Unfortunately for you, this has been the year for weddings. After Caroline's wedding, you didn't think it could get any worse--until you had to be IN a wedding. Fortunately for Aunt Jenny and Uncle Howie and Uncle Phil and Aunt Chelsea, you were crazy-handsome in your wedding attire, and charming to boot! When you're all grown up, we will all probably still be laughing about how you fell asleep under the table at Aunt Jenny's reception while your brothers danced the night away with each other.

This year, right in the middle of the worst thing, the BEST thing happened. On August 4, Daddy and I were privileged to sit on the floor of your bedroom and listen to you pray a prayer inviting Jesus to be the Lord of your life. The decision had been floating around in your brain and heart for some time, but for months you had been working hard to find a satisfactory answer to the age old question: Why does God let bad things happen to good people? Time and time again, we have simply said that faith means believing in what you can't see or make sense of. None of us know why God let cancer happen to our family, but you finally came to a point that you could believe that He is loving and good in spite of it. I will always remember that night, and how your prayer was a direct answer to one of my own.

I love being your mother. I love the lessons I learn from you and the memories I make with you. I love the way you won't go to sleep until I've kissed you goodnight. I love to hear you laugh. I love how you feel empathy for other people who are hurting, and how you want to help those who are not as fortunate as you are. I love that you are a morning person like me and that you are a hunter like your dad. I love that you tell me corny jokes and that you honestly think they are hilarious. I love your singing voice. Most of all, I love that you are mine.

Happy birthday, Goliath. I love YOU.

Love,

Mom

A Quick Goodbye

2010-12-31T05:38:00.003-06:00

Dear Friends, Family, and People who stumbled across this blog by accident:

Today I am leaving the great state of Texas (just for a while!) and the not-so-great year of 2010 behind. As you know, I am jetsetting to Florida with the people I love the most. As we were packing yesterday--and believe me, that was an adventure all by itself!--I got to thinking about the trip and what it really means to me. Tonight I will sit with lots of other folks and watch a fireworks show to welcome in 2011. I'm not sad to see 2010 go. It's been, without a doubt, THE most trying, difficult year of my entire life. Never before have I known such loss, felt such sorrow, or asked so many questions. But if I were to be honest, I would have to admit that it's been one of the greatest years of my life as well. Although the circumstances have been (and continue to be) less than ideal, I have seen God move, work, provide, and bless over and over and over again. He has been faithful, even when I have not been. Cancer is an unwelcome guest in my life, but it is also the agent by which I have experienced grace in its truest form. That is something I wouldn't trade for anything.

I will say goodbye to 2010 in high style tonight, and I am praying that the new year brings better days. But be assured that the lessons and memories of this year will not soon be forgotten!

One more thing. To those of you who have played a part in orchestrating my ChristMUST wish: The excitement in my house is through the roof! We have already had so much fun planning and packing! I covet your prayers this week as my family celebrates life together. My four guys and my precious parents have been through so much this year...I often say that cancer happened to them, too. I just can't tell you enough what this gift means to all of us. Thanks once again for the opportunity to have fun and just BE TOGETHER. To me, that's magic!

Blessings and God's best in 2011!

~Allyson

A BIG Surprise

2010-12-28T16:52:00.005-06:00

Our merry little Christmas was topped off with a BIG surprise for the little cowboys! Several weeks ago, some friends in Houston contacted my mother and shared with her that they wanted to do something special to make Christmas a little brighter for me and my family. Never in my wildest imagination could I have dreamed up what that "something" might be!

Hubby and I wanted to keep it a secret from the boys until Christmas morning. After the Christmas melee was over and we'd eaten breakfast, we sat them down and gave them each one more gift.

We got boxes!

T-shirts? We don't get it.

WE'RE GOING TO DISNEY WORLD!!!

Opening Disney Dollars from Nana and Poppy.
Little Middle: "Mom, is this a credit card?"

After the gifts were opened and the great cat was out of the bag, we called Nana and Poppy to say "thank you" for the Christmas gifts. That was when the final surprise came out: Not only are the five of us going to Disney World, but my parents are going, too! The boys were hootin', hollerin', and running in crazy circles!

In just a matter of weeks, hundreds of people in five different states donated money, airline miles, and other resources to make this trip possible. Every last detail, from park admission down to luggage fees, has been taken care of. There is a travel agent who worked feverishly to put together an itinerary so that we don't miss a thing. Meals are paid for, and we are even having breakfast one morning with Chef Mickey!

My Goliath will turn 9 while we are in Florida. I can't think of a better place for my gentle giant to spend his birthday than at Disney. Our friends arranged a special birthday surprise for him...I absolutely can't WAIT to see his face!

This Friday, seven very excited people will head to DFW airport to catch a plane to Orlando. We will be in the Magic Kingdom in time to watch the fireworks and ring in the new year. We will return to DFW next Thursday. I fully expect that we will be tired, happy, and chock full of memories that will last a lifetime.

To Our ChristMUST Wish Friends:

You are amazing. We are simply blown away by your generosity, your love, and your friendship. Many of you don't even know us, but you have shown us the love of Christ and given us great joy this holiday season. God has allowed us to walk a very dark and difficult road this year. There have been many days that I wasn't sure that I could, or even wanted to, take the next step. But along the way, God has been faithful to place people in my path who could cheer, encourage, and pray. "Thank you" is so inadequate to express how grateful I am that all of you allowed Him to use you in such a special way. But for now...Thank you for lightening my load and giving me something to look forward to (and brag to the chemo crew about!). Thank you for making my husband happy. Thank you for the smiles on my boys' faces. Thank you for the delight and excitement I hear in my parents' voices when I talk to them.

"The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others' burdens, easing other's loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of Christmas."--W.C. Jones

Thank you for giving us such a magical and grand gift! Surely I am the most blessed lady in the world, because I am loved. My cup runneth over.

Joyfully,

Allyson

P.S. I will try to post small updates and pictures on Facebook while we are gone. Watch for them!

Christmas 2010

2010-12-28T14:35:00.011-06:00

Our family will always remember Christmas 2010 as a very merry one indeed! After the year that we've had, Hubby and I wanted to keep it simple. We stayed home and did Christmas our way--just the 5 of us. Here are a few pictures that I took with my new camera: (Thanks, Hubby!)

Hubby read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" to the little cowboys.

Handsome Little Middle showing off his new Christmas pajamas before bed.

Cookies and milk for Santa, carrots for the reindeer.

Christmas morning...Santa came!

They were up early...a little sleepy-eyed, but very excited!

Santa and his reindeer loved their treats!

Goliath read Santa's letter out loud for everyone.

Happy chaos!

Goliath loves his new "Russian" hunting hat.

He can't wait to get in the kitchen with Mom and try out a new recipe.

Star Wars Legos!!!!

Baby laughed hard the first time we played Twister.

Later in the day, I found this airplane "crashed" into the Christmas tree

and a plastic passenger clinging to life on an ornament.

Christmas Dinner

I went into the Christmas season fearful that the Sickness and all that goes with it would stand in the way of me experiencing real joy. I have been very purposeful about looking for joy over the last month, and I've been pleasantly surprised at how easy it has been to find it--and how it was never out of my reach in the first place.

We went to the Christmas Eve service at our church. We sang traditional carols, the boys got to go down to the front for a mini-sermon, and at the end of the service, we lit candles and sang "Silent Night" a capella. I was overwhelmed with the hundreds of little lights and voices being lifted in worship toward the King.

Majesty in a manger...the Son of God in a stable. He came so that I could live (John 10:10). JOY!!!

From Our Family To Yours...

2010-12-25T16:29:00.005-06:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

"And Mary said, 'I'm bursting with God-news, I'm dancing the song of my Savior God. God took one good look at me, and look what happened--I'm the most fortunate woman on earth! What God has done for me will never be forgotten, the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others. His mercy flows in wave after wave on those who are in awe before him. He bared his arm and showed his strength, scattered the bluffing braggarts. He knocked tyrants off their high horses, pulled victims out of the mud. The starving poor sat down to a banquet, the callous rich were left out in the cold. He embraced his chosen child, Israel, he remembered and piled on the mercies, piled them high. It's exactly what he promised, beginning with Abraham and right up to now.' " Luke 1:46-55

Lines That Made Me Laugh

2010-12-23T09:43:00.004-06:00

Little Middle, upon being sent to his room: "Oh, pickles and prune juice!"

Baby: "Mommy, you are a female and females are bad guys."

Baby, while playing the Wii with his brother: "We can't kill that guy because he is music-activated."

Little Middle, after waking from a rare afternoon nap: "Mom, is today still yesterday? You forgot to wear new clothes."

The Second Verse

2010-12-17T04:54:00.006-06:00

I grew up in a great church where the foundation was laid for my faith. I memorized Scripture there, I made lifelong friends there, and I learned to worship, particularly through music. Our church services had a healthy dose of hymns with a generous sprinkling of praise choruses, circa 1980s: "Majesty," "We Bring the Sacrifice of Praise," and "As the Deer" stand out in my mind. I still remember that "How Great Thou Art" was #2 in the hymnal.

We don't use that hymnal much these days. My kids are learning song lyrics from a screen in the worship center rather than the hymnal in the pew. In fact, I'm certain that that hymnal is not much more to them than a hard book to put under their children's bulletins that they work on during the sermon! And that makes me a little sad.

When I was growing up, sometimes I would get bored during the sermon. My mother suggested once that I listen carefully and write down all of the words I didn't understand. The only word I walked away with was "multitude," with a bunch of tally marks for every time the preacher said it. Sometimes I would pass the time reading the hymnal. Yes, I know it's kind of a dorky thing to do. But that opened my eyes to what I now consider to be often-overlooked treasures: the second verse. We always sing the first verse of a hymn, and often the third or fourth. But why not the second?

It's no wonder, then, that I was surprised in a good way as I was driving around town running errands with the radio on this week. "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" has a second verse that strikes my heart and meets me right where I am this Christmas:

And ye, beneath life's crushing load

Whose forms are bending low

Who toil along the climbing way

With painful steps and slow,

Look now! for glad and golden hours

Come swiftly on the wing

O rest beside the weary load

And hear the angels sing.

Every step I take feels painful and slow, and sometimes even backwards. Even my commitment to seek out joy this holiday season seems like a mountain in and of itself some days. I will gladly accept the invitation to leave my load beside the manger and listen to the angels sing.

And I will sing along...with my hymnal open.

Scared

2010-12-09T12:56:00.014-06:00

It is an awful feeling to wake up in the morning and think, "Today is the day I will find out if I have cancer in my body."

That is how my day began. Before I even opened my eyes this morning, my heart was pounding, my stomach was sinking, and I was begging God for favor. Maybe I should back up a bit... On Tuesday, I went to the hospital for my every-three-months-regularly-scheduled scan. This was a CT scan, much more difficult and not as detailed as a PET scan. When I got to the hospital and checked in, the technician took me and my sweet mom to a back waiting room and delivered 1 1/2 hours worth of barium sulfate. I had to drink a certain amount every 10 minutes. Let's just say that the more I drank, the faster the 10 minute mark kept coming! Before I even had time to rejoice that the cocktail was gone, the tech returned and whisked me back to what is really a closet with a chair in it. She started an IV, and then we went to the imaging room.

I've lost count of the number of times I've laid on that table, trying to follow the instructions from the automated machine: "Breathe in. Hold your breath." Whrrrrr. "Release your breath." Whrrrrr. Up, down, in, out. If I open my eyes, when the table moves me out of the machine, I can see what I'm sure is supposed to be a peaceful scene on the ceiling--a flowing brook surrounded by towering trees. I much prefer to close my eyes, but then all I can see are the faces of my boys. Desperate terror was what I felt on Tuesday. I think I might have tried to jump off that table and run away, except that 1) I was trapped in the imaging tunnel, and 2) I had a needle in my arm that attached me to an IV pole. So instead, I did the only thing I knew to do: I recited Scripture. A scripture, to be exact: Isaiah 26:3. "You will keep me in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on you, because I trust in you." (paraphrases mine) Over and over again.

The scan takes less than 10 minutes, but it seemed so much longer than that. Finally, it was done and I was free to go. I collected my things and my mother and practically ran for the parking lot. Once we were safely in the car, I lost it. I simply could not contain the anxiety and fear any longer.

I don't know why I feel so terrified every single time I have to go there. Besides the obvious, I mean. I think it's natural to feel scared. The threat is very real. But after all this time, why do I start to hyperventilate when the hospital comes in sight? Why do my hands shake when I enter the office? Why do I still cry? I'm not nearly as brave as I want to be, or as good as I should be. I feel like if I were, then 2 Timothy 1:7 would not resonate with me like it does: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline."

Mom, Baby, and I passed the waiting hours of Wednesday doing a little Christmas shopping while the big boys were at school. After school, there were spelling words to practice, friends to play with, and iCarly to watch. I'm pretty sure I've seen every episode of iCarly that there is. We went to bed early, and that brings us back to this morning. "Today is the day I will find out if I have cancer in my body."

As it turns out, the scan was clear. The emotions I felt with that news were a mixed bag: Relief, fear, joy, sorrow. Of course it was good news! It was exactly what I, along with so many of you, have prayed for. In the back of my mind, though, I can still feel the fear creeping in. This clear scan is just a reprieve...a temporary sigh of relief. The Sickness will be back, unless God overrules medicine (and He absolutely could choose to do that!).

I explained it to a close friend this afternoon this way: I feel like Eeyore, who always moved around with a dark cloud hovering over his head. No matter where he went or what he did, that cloud stayed with him. That's me. The cloud of cancer follows me everywhere. Just because it's not raining right now doesn't mean it isn't there or that I am not acutely aware of it. It permeates everything I think and do. It threatens to open up and pour down on me at any time. And do you want to know the truth? I am scared of it.

I hate that I'm scared. I want to be brave. My boys make me want to be brave. Whether or not my time with them is cut short, I desperately want them to remember that I trusted my Lord with all that I had. I want them to know that I faced the Sickness, if not cheerfully, than certainly with a welcoming spirit for the challenge. I want them to know that they were worth fighting for, and that the strength that I had to fight came from above.

Tonight I cooked one of their favorite dinners and we celebrated the good news with root beer floats. Watching them enjoy their desserts, I breathed a prayer of thanks that there is "no evidence of recurrent or metastatic disease." I asked God to help me slow down and be present in the here and now, and most of all, to help me get a handle on that spirit of power, love, and self-discipline. If God is for me, who can be against me?

This and That

2010-12-01T16:37:00.003-06:00

I know there hasn't been much activity on the blog lately, but that's really because there hasn't been much to say. Cancer, along with its many sorrows and joys, is still with me. The new maintenance regimen is much better than before, but it is still chemotherapy. It's difficult. I am having a CT scan next Tuesday, and a follow-up meeting with Dr. M on Thursday. We anticipate that all will be clear, as expected, and he will recommend marching forward with what I'm already doing. Still, there is much anxiety as the day approaches. I would appreciate your prayers.

Now, how about a little of this and a bit of that to catch up?

*Little Middle lost three teeth in four days. The Tooth Fairy is going broke. And he came home from school today with the announcement that another one is loose!

*I upgraded some of our Christmas decor this year. I figured after 12 years of marriage, we deserve a new tree skirt. Thank you, Hobby Lobby, for your over-the-top-after-Thanksgiving sales!

*Speaking of Christmas decorations, Hubby and Goliath hung lights outside. We want to do outside lights every year, but it doesn't always get done. Ahem. Anyway, while they were working, I heard maniacal laughter from the backyard. Turns out that Little Middle climbed up on the roof and JUMPED OFF onto the trampoline. Be still, my heart.

*Baby's favorite indoor "decoration" is the Little People nativity set. He is constantly rearranging the the animals and the characters, and pushing the angel down so she will "sing." He loves to sing along to Away in the Manger, and I cracked up when I heard his sweet voice sing "the little Bo Jesus laid down his sweet head." I mentioned that the right lyrics are "little LORD Jesus," and he said, "Hmmm. I always thought it was Bo Jesus." He keeps on singing it that way.

*Goliath is going to be Penguin #7 in the school Christmas play. It reminds me of this.

*I was totally blessed by two groups of MOPS moms from my church who adopted me as their "service project." One group took three baskets of our laundry to the laundromat, and the other group went to the grocery store for me. I literally wept when I saw the full refrigerator and the baskets of neatly folded clothes.

*Christmas came early for Hubby this year. He is the proud owner of his first new car since 1998. Believe me, he deserves it.

*I am on a personal mission to seek out joy this holiday season. It isn't coming as naturally to me as it usually does, so I am being very intentional about looking for it.

*While we were in Houston, my brother invited my boys over to his house for Nephew Camp. It might be the greatest thing that's ever happened to them--they are still talking about it! Baby now wants to get a Christmas tree to use in his room for a nightlight, because "that's what Uncle Phil let us have."

*I could probably construct a small temporary shelter with the lint I pulled out of my dryer today.

*Gus the dog is no longer my friend. He ATE the blue cover that goes over the trampoline springs, for crying out loud! What's worse, he doesn't much care what I think of him. He only has eyes for Hubby.

*Princess Puppy Love has stiff joints now that the weather is cold. Watching her struggle to get up and down (and I don't mean because she's plump) makes it easier to forgive finding her hairs on my new black sweater.

*I am not a fan of the new hair growing on my head. It is curly and it is the color of ugly dirt. The good news is that my eyelashes are finally growing back.

*When Hubby changed jobs back in September, we paid to COBRA our health insurance for about six weeks, until his new benefits kicked in. They were quick to take our money, but have yet to pay out one single claim that my doctor's office has made. What's more, we haven't been able to do much about it because we didn't get our ID cards until two weeks after COBRA was up. This has been so frustrating!

*Every single room in my house has at least a few silly bandz scattered around the floor.

*When I got up this morning, I got my glasses off my nightstand. It wasn't until I turned on the lights in the kitchen that I realized I was wearing my sunglasses.

*Goliath did a family tree project for social studies. I enjoyed helping him put together the information and telling him stories about the memories I have of my great-grandparents.

*One of my favorite things my husband does for me is to get the coffee pot ready every night. Each morning when I get up, there is already fresh coffee waiting!

*I bought something on Cyber Monday for the first time ever.

Away

2010-11-23T13:06:00.003-06:00

The holidays are upon us, ready or not. The little cowboys and I hightailed it out of the Big D and are spending the week in Houston with my parents. All we're missing is Hubby. He's working, but will join us for Thanksgiving later in the week.

To be honest, I've dreaded the thought of the holidays. The shopping, the cooking, the traveling, the decorating, the entertaining--it all seems so overwhelming. That is why this trip feels like an escape. There is no agenda except to enjoy just being.

Yesterday I spent the day with my boys. I was purposeful about being with them, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. I really wanted to listen to what they had to say and be part of their experience--not just an observer. We played at the park, where we fed some ducks and rescued a turtle. I let them choose where we ate lunch (Burger King--ack!), and then we did some shopping at the dollar store. We walked the mall and had some ice cream in the food court. We rode the escalators just for the fun of it, and enjoyed the massage chairs in Macy's. We finished the day by playing in the playscape at Nana's church. We were hot and tired, but oh, so happy.

It's been a long time since I had a day like that with all three of my sons. There were no distractions, no places to be, no obligations. Just us. I am glad to be away. And I am so glad I got the reminder that there is so much to be thankful for this week: I am doing exactly what I want to do, and there could not be three more wonderful people for me to do it with.

P.S. I took great pictures yesterday. They would look super filling up this space. Unfortunately, Little Middle dropped my camera on the tile floor last night and now all I have is a flashing message that says "Lens Error: 211." Hubby, do you think you can fix it? Please?

Happy Birthday, Baby!

2010-11-11T21:13:00.007-06:00

Dear Baby,

You are five today! Although I am excited for you, this birthday has been bittersweet for me. Turning five is a big deal, because now you are really a big boy. Any traces of that beautiful baby with the perfectly round head have been replaced by a high-energy, fun-loving, super-funny boy.

Eight days ago, you lost your first tooth. You had made no mention of it being loose, so I sure was surprised when I picked you up from your class at church and your teachers handed me a tiny package containing what I'm certain is The World's Smallest Tooth! You were pretty proud of yourself, and you were thrilled with the dollar bill the Tooth Fairy left under your pillow. You won't know until you read this letter someday that as she flew by my bedroom on her way to yours, the Tooth Fairy probably heard me crying over that tiny tooth.

You also won't know that I cried very early this morning while I was making monkey bread for your birthday breakfast. (You broke the family birthday muffin tradition this year. Someday you'll need to tell Nana that you're sorry.) I cried tears of sorrow, because the more you grow up, the more independent you are...and the less you need me. I cried tears of joy, simply because that's what you bring to my life and to our family.

Without a doubt, this year has been the hardest one of my life. Cancer reared its ugly head again, and I have spent the last nine months undergoing treatments. It has been horrible for all of us. How I pray you don't remember it when you grow up! God has given me amazing friends, but there have been days when no words from them could cheer or encourage me. On those days, there was you. You might rush in for a quick kiss and be gone, or you might climb in bed and snuggle for a while. Either way, no words were needed. I have found tremendous comfort and peace just by being with you.

You never seem to be upset at being left while I go to the doctor, nor do you ask too many questions. You are just content to be, and you act as if whatever I say is perfectly fine with you, thank you very much. I will never, ever forget the day I told you and your brother that I would lose my hair during chemotherapy. He was worried and tearful, but you simply put your hand on your little hip and said, "Little Middle, it is going to be OK, because God will take care of Mommy." Such wisdom for such a little guy!

Of course, it isn't all gloom and doom around here. No, not while you're around! Case in point: After church last week, I was explaining to Little Middle something from his Sunday School lesson. I ended my explanation by telling him, "Everything we have comes from God." You piped up from the backseat, "And Santa!"

One morning I asked you to get yourself dressed. You said, "Mommy, I have to wear pants, right?"

And one of my favorite Baby quotes: "I have three words to say! Can you get me some Cocoa Krispies with no milk?"

Gosh, you're funny.

I guess it's because you're my youngest that I feel the passage of time so acutely. I am torn; part of me can't wait to see what you're going to do and become, part of me wants to slow time way down so I can soak in every second of this season of your life, knowing that I will never experience it again. I want to remember how you love to drink with a crazy straw, but rarely want milk in your cereal...how you concentrate so hard when you play Angry Birds on Daddy's iPhone, and how you can beat levels he can't even get to...how your feelings get hurt when Goliath and Little Middle leave you out, but how it's easy to see how much you love them (and they love you). I never want to forget how adorable you look in your Wranglers and boots, how you laugh so hard you snort when I tickle you, and how you smile first thing when I wake you up in the mornings. I want to freeze the images I have in my head of you being the cutest ring bearer EVER in your aunt's and uncle's weddings this year, and how you barely managed to tolerate that little flower girl. I want to remember you building Legos with your brothers, playing Star Wars with your friends, demanding macaroni and cheese every Tuesday, the goofy faces you make every time you get your picture taken, and the way you say "I love you."

Baby, I know that every life is precious, but God sure had a special plan when He thought of you. He knew that I would need you just as much--or maybe more?--than you would need me. I am so thankful that I got to be your mommy! In five short years, you've given Daddy and me so much joy, and without even knowing it, you remind us that God is always in control of all things.

Yes, you're a big boy, well on your way to big things. But make no mistake: you'll always be my baby.

Happy Birthday, darling boy.

Love,

Mommy

Plan B

2010-11-09T10:20:00.008-06:00

It's been a ho-hum sort of week--and it's only Tuesday. Some of my blah-ness comes from the fact that my eyelashes are falling out again. I've been watching them with suspicion for several days, but yesterday morning when I was putting on makeup I realized there weren't even enough there to justify mascara. I called my mom at 6:30 a.m. crying.

Now, I know that in the grand scheme of things, eyelashes don't matter. Hair won't get me to heaven. My husband won't judge the temperature of our relationship on whether or not I can flutter my eyelashes at him. The boys won't remember that Mommy's makeup looked different from other mommies. But to me, in the here and now, it matters. It suddenly seemed to matter even more after I questioned my chemo nurse about it, and she told me that there is a very real possibility that I could re-lose the hair on my head as well.

I recently read Plan B by Pete Wilson. A friend gave it to me and wrote inside the book that it was "a good read, probably one you could've written." BD, I'm sure you didn't mean for this book to tear me apart, but that's pretty much what happened. It's been a long time since a book has affected me to the degree that this one did. And I think it got to me because the premise of the whole book is this: What do you do when God doesn't show up for you in the way you thought He would? That question is one I've wrestled with for quite a while now.

I had lots of dreams and plans once upon a time. Those plans might have looked mundane and boring to some people, but for the most part, I've always known what I wanted from life. It was simple: I wanted to fall in love, get married, raise a family, and live happily ever after. Yes, I went to college, and yes, there are days that I think wistfully of that framed diploma gathering dust in a box in our garage. Some days I think I would rather run an office than a carpool, or I would like to make money instead of cookies. But my four guys remind me that I'm living my dream, and even on the hard days, I know I wouldn't trade it for anything.

In the summer of 2007, though, my little world came to a screeching halt with a cancer diagnosis. It had never occurred to me that I could become Wife and Mommy and then get sick. Since then, and especially this year, I have had to abandon my perfect Plan A for my life and accept Plan B. Plan B means that instead of giving my family homecooked meals every night, I am ordering more than my fair share of pizza. It means that some other kid's parent gets to share a new experience with my son because I can't go on his field trip. Plan B means that my Goliath frets like a little old man when he is away from me because he is fearful that something will happen and I won't come back. Under Plan B, my husband digs through a basket of wrinkled laundry to find clean clothes. I hate Plan B.

If I didn't feel like the cloud of cancer was hovering over me so closely, I might find it humorous that God allowed this to happen to me. Really, God? Me, of all people? The girl who despises change and upset in the order of things?

"Your dreams may not be happening, and things aren't turning out the way you expected, but that doesn't mean your life is spinning out of control. It just means you're not in control." (Wilson) Ouch. No doubt about it: I am definitely not in control here. I have spent much of the last 9 months asking God for a way out, begging Him for relief. I couldn't count the number of times I have said, "I just want my life back."

Ironic, huh? I have walked with Christ for most of my life, but when we came to this, THE thing, I misstepped. I allowed fear and anger and uncertainty to creep in too close, and I begged God to give me what wasn't mine to begin with. I gave my life to Him a long time ago. I promised my husband on our wedding day that I would do my best to love him in sickness and in health--why would I do less for my God?

This season of maintenance chemotherapy is hard. I fully expected that it would be much easier, both physically and emotionally, because--hey! I survived chemotherapy! The reality is far removed from my expectations. It still feels like chemo: I am tired, I'm taking LOTS of meds, I'm losing hair. The difference is that before, life was spinning around me, and now it is trying to sweep me along with it. A lot of days I feel like such a fake! On the outside, everything appears to be fine, but on the inside, I'm barely holding it together. What I know in my head doesn't match up with what I feel in my heart.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Andy Stanley: "Every day we have this choice to make. Am I going to define God by interpreting my circumstances or am I going to simply trust that God is who he says he is?"

My Plan B isn't at all what I expected, and certainly not what I wanted. But I think maybe I'm making it harder than it has to be by over-thinking. I might not ever know why God allowed this suffering. I'm not sure why it seems that He is silent at times when I need Him the most. Maybe it's time, though, for me to pull it together. "We're called to be faithful to God even when it seems he hasn't been faithful to us. We're called to love him even when we feel abandoned. We're called to look for him even in the midst of the darkness. We're called to worship him even though our tears." (Wilson)

When darkness veils His lovely face, I rest on His unchanging grace.

In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.

His oath, His covenent, His blood, support me in the whelming flood.

When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.

I choose to continue to look deeper and love more, trusting Him through my Plan B.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-11-03T06:06:00.002-05:00

Pumpkins, Pajamas, Hunting, and Haunting

2010-11-01T21:50:00.008-05:00

We wrapped up October in typical H family style: slightly chaotic and lots of fun!

The obligatory pumpkin patch picture.

The three cowboys were much happier standing in line for the hay ride with their friends.

I was blessed by some sweet friends with a surprise front porch makeover, complete with pumpkins and hand-painted sign. How I love those girls!

Every year, our preschool has Pajama Day at the end of October. In my humble, comfortable opinion, it is the best day of the year!

Mommy and Baby at Pajama Day.

Baby and Joe the Bear had matching Batman pjs!

Shannon (aka World's Greatest Co-Teacher) and me in our matching jammies.

Our monkey socks were super cute, don't you think?

The Strawberry teachers and our across-the-hall neighbors, Ms. Gloria and Ms. Renee.

Baby and Bransyn with their Frog teachers, Ms. Maureen and Ms. Michelle (plus Kendall).

Goliath got to participate in Youth Hunting weekend this year. He went out to the lease with his Papa, completely confident that he would be able to get a great buck within 2 days. I needn't have worried, because it took him less than 4 hours.

I'm not a hunter, but I sure am proud of him!

Goliath made it home from his hunting trip in just enough time to get dressed up for Halloween!

Little Middle/Iron Man and Baby/Darth Vader

Baby/Darth Vader, Goliath/Super Mario, and Little Middle/Iron Man on the way to trick-or-treat. I'm sure they really were smiling under those masks and mustache!

Trick-or-treating is more fun with friends!

My Baby isn't scared of anything.

Right after he grabbed a handful of candy, the real live person in the casket tried to grab him!

The loot, after careful negotiations and re-distribution.

He Really Loves His Mama

2010-10-27T20:18:00.001-05:00

Goliath: "I think I love you more than cheesecake, Mom."

Hopeful

2010-10-19T14:02:00.004-05:00

I met with my oncologist yesterday. The appointment was not routine, rather, I requested the meeting in order to discuss the difficulties I have been having with maintenance chemotherapy. A bit of background: When I began maintenance chemo in August, I was told that it would be no big deal in comparison with the IP chemo I had just completed. I was assured that I could resume my regular activities and that I would feel much like my old self. The nurse told me then that the maintenance chemo would be "just like drinking water." Well, someone apparently poisoned the water hole. The maintenance has been horrible. I have experienced many of the same symptoms that I had with the regular IP chemo: debilitating leg pain, prolonged headaches, and EXTREME fatigue, to name a few. The big difference is that with IP chemo, I could plan to be sick for a few days, but I knew I would gradually feel better before it came around again. On the maintenance regimen, I am always either going to chemo or recovering from having been there. It is a constant cycle of misery and trying hard to get ahead. Even worse, my precious family is paying a very high price. I have been unable to do much of what I normally would. My Hubby is trying to take over for me in a lot of ways, but he is exhausted. I am doing minimal mothering, and the little cowboys deserve better.

So I said that to Dr. M. I told him that the quality of life that I have with the maintenance protocol is unacceptable to me and my family. I told him that I needed a change. I was worried that he might try to assure me that everything is fine, so I was greatly relieved when I described my symptoms to him and he said, "None of these things should be happening!" Good--I thought I was going crazy. We spent quite a while hashing out the details of a new chemo plan. In the end, it looked like this: I will not be receiving Taxol at all anymore. The once-a-week Taxol IV has been replaced with a once-a-day-Cytoxan pill (When I googled Cytoxan, one of the search results was "types of medicine for cats with breast cancer." Yikes!). The Cytoxan is another chemo drug--not as preferred as Taxol--but well-tolerated and effective. I will continue to receive Avastin as an antibody every other week and participate in the clinical study for that drug. The schedule remains the same: I will have a CT scan at the end of this cycle (mid-November), and another scan at the end of the sixth cycle (February-ish). At that time, if no new cancer shows up, I will be released from therapy and we will continue to monitor with scans and physical exams.

In addition to working out the chemotherapy mess, I also felt ready--sort of--to ask some hard questions. Up until now, we have dealt with whatever issue was at hand and pushed all of the looking-into-the-future things to the side. As my body and my treatment have changed, however, so has my thinking. As much as I wish it could be different, my reality is that my body is affected by a life-threatening illness. I very much want for Dr. M to tell me that without a doubt, I will live to be a very old woman. I want to hear that I will raise my little boys to be fine men. That I will sit in the front row at their high school graduations, that I will take them to college, and after I leave them in a dorm room somewhere, that I will go home and bake cookies for the care packages that I will send them. I want him to say that I will dance at their weddings and that their wives will be the daughters I never had. I want him to say that there will be plenty of time for Hubby and me to travel together, and to build our dream house with a huge porch where we will sip coffee in our rocking chairs when we are very old (but still very much in love). So I just asked him: Best guess...what does my future look like?

Deep breath. Almost certainly, the cancer will return. Hopefully it will be a few years, during which time I will live like I want to live instead of living according to what cancer dictates. When it does come back, it will most likely redevelop in the pelvic region, and everything I've done this year will need to be done again. Will cancer kill me? Maybe, maybe not. Dr. M is noncommittal, although we got a big lecture about the power of positive thinking.

All in all, the news and the steps taken have left me cautiously optimistic. I have been so sick for so long that I almost expect the next thing, whatever it is, to be bad. Today my weary body and my discouraged heart feel ready. I am ready to try again, and encouraged to start putting one foot in front of the other. The journey is l-o-n-g, and the steps are so small. At the same time, my God is SO BIG. Even in my days of despair, He has been faithful and excessive in the ways that He shows His love for me.

"I will be glad and rejoice in your love, for you saw my affliction and knew the anguish of my soul. You have not handed me over to the enemy but have set my feet in a spacious place." Psalm 31:7-8

I am trusting You, Lord, as we take these next small steps together. Give me the will to keep up the good fight and to keep pointing back to You. Help me to be the best wife and mom that I can be to my guys. Thank you for walking with me and flooding the path with Your light when I can't see where to go or what to do. I will continue to hold tightly to Your hand and follow Your lead. Amen.

Birthday Blog

2010-10-15T05:13:00.002-05:00

Some time ago, I joked with my mother that she could be a guest blogger for me someday. Today, on my 35th birthday, she is doing just that. Thanks, Mom, for sharing my life and your heart here...

On October 15, 1975, I became a mother. I already knew--not through technology, back in the day--but in my heart I knew for sure that our first child would be a girl. And then she was here, ten fingers, ten toes, beautiful in every way. A daughter. Allyson Amber. What joy!

Larry and I couldn't believe that God would give us such a gift, but apparently He had, because we took our amazing daughter home with us and she began showing us who she was. She grew, and soon she skipped off to kindergarten with her little ribbon-tied pigtails. She was the smartest girl in the class, she made the best friend ever, she was everything a mother could want. Sweet joy!

Years flew by. Every school year started with an oh-so-cute picture of Allyson and her red-haired friend Caroline. Allyson became big sister to Phil and Jenny, loved her daddy above all people, and, through God's grace, developed a relationship with her Heavenly Father. Together we went through the drama of junior high and the happiness and minor heartbreaks of high school. She made us proud. Continuing joy!

One of my favorite quotes says that being a mother lets you know what it's like "to have your heart walk around outside your body." Every mother knows this feeling. Allyson is my heart. (Phil and Jenny too, of course. How blessed am I!) The day came when we did the strangest thing. We drove Allyson to college and left her there. I've never known such a feeling of incongruity as I felt looking back and seeing my heart happily waving me away. This, even this, was joy.

In college Allyson fell in love with the man she would choose to marry. She chose well. Clint is a man who is committed to protect her and walk with her through all the stages of life. Together they have given us the world's three greatest grandsons and made a home filled with love and laughter. Joy multiplied.

Along the way, a surprising thing happened. My daughter became my friend. Not just a you-might-as-well-be-friends-because-you're-stuck-with-each-other kind of friend. She is the kind of friend who makes me laugh like no one else, who knows what I'm really thinking, who holds my secrets and trusts me with hers, who wants the best for me, who I would have chosen to be my friend whether she had been my daughter or not. That is an amazing joy.

Today, my daughter, my baby, my girl, my friend, is 35! And today she faces a powerful, terrible enemy named Cancer. She stands strong and proud as she faces the foe that makes her future uncertain. In some way her strength protects all of us who love her so much. She says, "Lift up your eyes. See that God is good," and we see. She says, "Be still and know that He is God," and we are stilled.

Do you wonder what I feel when I see my girl suffering through this horrific trial? Oh, I feel the things you would imagine. I feel deep sorrow, great fear, dismay of the why-couldn't-it-be-me? variety; but there is more. I feel the deepest joy I have known.

This amazing Allyson is my daughter and my friend. I have the privilege of walking this walk with her. Our love grows deeper with every step. My admiration for her expands daily. And wonder of wonders, the greatest lesson of mothering becomes ultimately clear to me. All along, she has not really belonged to me. She has belonged to her God, her Creator. I stand back and watch as He cares for her and the two of them face the future. I know He has her, He loves her, He holds her. And that joy is unspeakable.

Happy birthday, Heart Girl. I love you.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-10-13T13:05:00.006-05:00

I Want to Say...

2010-10-07T20:38:00.006-05:00

I wrote a new post earlier today while I was in the chemo room. I went back and read it, and realized it did not make a bit of sense. Crazy drugs and crazy people will do that to you. The crazies will also crush your ability to put together coherent thoughts, stand up straight for any length of time, or tolerate any noise/chaos/changes without wanting to pull your hair out (if you had any to pull).

I have a lot to say, but I don't feel like I am able to get it down well enough or fast enough to justify telling it. Would you put up with one more bullet point list? Thanks. I want to say:

*That maintenance chemo is harder than regular "big" chemo in a lot of ways. At the top of the list: Going every single week. Thursday used to be my favorite day of the week, and now it is my least favorite. Even The Office can't make Thursdays OK for me anymore.

*After suffering debilitating leg pain, days-long headaches, and extreme fatigue, I spoke up and told Nurse Stephani that maintenance chemo was not at all like "drinking water," as I was told it would be. She agreed that something is amiss in the way my body is responding to the treatment; I have an appointment scheduled with Dr. M on October 18th to discuss what could possibly be wrong and what we should do to fix it.

*I talked with each of my boys and now have their blessing to walk around the house with my head uncovered. Goliath told me that I "look like Uncle Phil, only a girl" with my "new" hair growing in.

*Gus the dog is able to get into more trouble now that he's tall enough to reach more stuff. His cousin Moose refers to him as "that giant puppy."

*I really want to take the boys to the state fair, but I don't know if we can make that happen this year.

*I like to mark in my books when I read. I just finished a book that is so marked up, I don't know if it will even be helpful when I go back to look for something specific. This book tore me up in a good way, and it took me forever to read it because I kept having to stop and absorb the information and apply it to my situation. It is entitled to its own post later on.

*We are being blessed by friends bringing dinner to our house twice a week while I am doing maintenance chemo. A lot of those friends don't seem to think that their gift of food is adequate. Hear me loud and clear, you cooking pals 'o mine: There are days (like today!) when your aluminum dishes full of warm goodness make me stand in the kitchen and cry tears of gratitude. You are doing for my family what I can not do, and that is HUGE to me.

*Earlier this week, city workers came out to repair the sidewalk in front of our house. Baby and I went out and sat on the grass and watched the workers mix, pour, and smooth concrete for the new sidewalk. Little boys love big trucks, and he was a terrific mix of wonder and questions. I love that littlest man, and I loved making that memory with him. He reminds me why I must press on and keep giving everything I have.

*The Neulasta injection I receive every month costs $4,150.00. For ONE SHOT. Let that sink in.

*Insurance is so necessary, but is also such a pain in the rear.

*I love my job. I appreciate it even more now for the sense of normalcy it brings to my life.

*I still have two kids who need Halloween costumes.

*It is hard for me to answer when people ask me "How are you feeling?". I want to be honest, but I don't want to sound like I'm complaining.

*I really wish my sister and brother lived close to me, but I'm thankful for my very cool brother-in-law who does.

*My family is getting used to Hubby being at work all day. We are all adjusting to the new schedule, and we all really like it (especially the part where he comes home)!

*I've had a few lay-it-all-on-the-table talks with God lately. I've been very honest in telling Him that I am weary, and I just don't think I have what it takes to keep on going. I cry. I whine. I beg for Him to make it all go away. He tells me that He is nearby (Psalm 14:17), that I am safe (Psalm 91:1-2), that He has good plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11), and that there should still be joy in the midst of my troubles (James 1:2-3).

*A couple of friends put on a Pampered Chef show a few weeks ago from which all proceeds were to be donated to Team Allyson. I don't know what kind of funds a typical show nets, but it seems like everyone I know bought something! I am so grateful, and so humbled. Thank you, friends.

Ultimate Chemo Brain

2010-10-03T19:30:00.003-05:00

My sister and her mister were in town this weekend for the Texas-OU game. I don't want to discuss the game itself, or the fact that they ate a deep-fried PopTart at the fair, so I will entertain you with a true story of chemo brain instead.

I fixed Waikiki Meatballs for dinner last night (thanks, Dee!) and there was enough to feed my hungry Seester when they got back from the fairgrounds. I fixed her a plate piled high with meatballs, rice, steamed sugar snap peas, and bread. I handed it to her, she set it down on the table and excused herself to the bathroom. While she was gone, I cleared the table of all remaining dishes,--including her untouched dinner--brushed all food into the trash can, and loaded the dishwasher. When Jenny came back to the kitchen, she said, "Hey, who took my food?" And you know what I did? I helped her look for it. Oh, yes, I did.

Thank you, chemotherapy, for destroying my brain cells but giving my family a reason to laugh at me.

Chemo Is Not Loverly

2010-09-27T21:38:00.003-05:00

Picture Audrey Hepburn singing these words...my twist on a classic favorite:

All I want is a place somewhere
far away from this chemo chair
where women have no hair
Oh, chemo is not loverly.

The nurse says be careful
what you eat
I say I still can not feel my feet
Off week is such a treat
Oh, chemo is not loverly.

Not so loverly sittin'
abso-bloomin'-lutely still
I want to cry when it comes
in view just over the hill.

Old ladies staring straight at me
Talking over my misery
Oh, where is Stephani?
No, chemo is not loverly.
Loverly, loverly, loverly--
No, chemo is not loverly.

Good News

2010-09-24T05:35:00.003-05:00

Several weeks ago, I gave a blood sample for the BRAC analysis test. In addition to all the "regular" cancer stuff, I have carried the weight of worry that people I love will be at a higher risk for cancer because of me. The BRAC analysis checks for gene mutations that would indicate the possibility of that happening.

Yesterday during chemo, Nurse Michelle pulled me aside and said that they had received the test results. She handed me a folder, and in the middle of long paragraphs of medical mush, these words jumped off the page at me: NO MUTATION DETECTED. The tests were negative. My Seester, my cousins, even my children are not at any greater risk for cancer than the average person walking down the street. Thank you, Lord. Michelle handed me a tissue for the tears that were falling, and all I could manage to say was, "I love them so much." And I do.

Now, just a touch of funny. Now that I have to go to chemo all by my lonesome during the maintenance phase, my mom and I have a plan worked out. I keep my phone close by my side and text her during the treatment. That way, she knows everything that is going on and I don't feel so lonely. Here is the series of texts that we exchanged yesterday:

Me: Oh Lord. Just got here. 2 old couples in the waiting room discussing the beauty of Mackinaw Island in the summer.

Mom: Don't make eye contact.

Me: In sick room. One bald head, 2 sleepers, 1 Bible reader with 4 bottles of water. Dr. M just came by and kissed my cheek.

Me: Houston, we have snoring.

Mom: Make up a song about the chemo room. "All I want is a room somewhere..."

Me: New addition who looks alarmingly like (someone we know), only taller.

Mom: How many can fit in the room??????

Me: 6. It's always full.

Me: Old lady a few chairs down has had a voice change b/c of chemo. She sounds like a man with a cold.

Mom: Oh no. The dreaded voice change.

Me: Sick lady is watching a how-to video on her computer about insurance--with no ear muffs!

(I once mixed up the terms "ear phones" with "ear muffs" due to chemo brain. My mother still is laughing about it.)

Mom: She should know muffs are a must in the chemo room.

I can't make this stuff up.

Phillip's Wedding

2010-09-23T09:52:00.009-05:00

The second sibling wedding is done! The Brother and his Other got hitched this past Saturday in a beautiful ceremony in our childhood church. Phil was so handsome, and Chelsea was the picture of style and grace.

Mama and her cowboys at the rehearsal

Once upon a time this amazing man was an annoying little boy who shoved me into a thorn bush and tried to convince me I was adopted.

Hubby helping Goliath with his tie. Handsome men!

Goliath and Little Middle walked my grandmothers down the aisle; Baby was the ring bearer.

I love these guys with all my heart.

Phil and his sisters--ready to walk down the aisle.

The happy couple!

Confidential to Phil: All of us who love you have longed for and pleaded with God for the happiness you showed on Saturday. Your joy fills my heart to overflowing. I will never, ever forget the look on your face and the tears in your eyes as I walked down the aisle toward you while you waited for your bride. I mouthed "I love you" to you, and I know you understood that there was nothing that would have kept me from sharing that moment with you. You have stretched my heart in a way that no one else can: Thank you for teaching me about faith, grace, prayer, and humility. My little brother has grown up to be a godly man; I am so proud of who you are and what you do. I will continue to pray for you and Chelsea as you begin your life together. May your home and your hearts be always joyful...you deserve nothing less. I love you so much!

Teal Toes

2010-09-21T20:56:00.007-05:00

Did you know that September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month? To celebrate, I got a pedicure today:

A few facts about ovarian cancer:

*Ovarian cancer is often referred to as the "silent killer," as the symptoms can easily be missed or mistaken for other ailments.

*There is no reliable screening method for detecting ovarian cancer, nor is there any real test designed to catch it before it spreads.

*The median age for women diagnosed with ovarian cancer is 60.

*Ovarian cancer is the 9th most common cancer, accounting for about 3% of cancers among women.

*Ovarian cancer is the 5th leading cause of cancer death among women in the United States.

*About 21,880 new cases of ovarian cancer will be diagnosed this year in the U.S., and about 13,850 women will die from the disease.

I will not live in fear. I will not let cancer define me or steal my identity. I will continue to fight. I have teal toes!

Bits and Pieces

2010-09-18T06:30:00.006-05:00

~I have had a great coffee week! First this...

and then I discovered this:

YUM.

~The calendar says we are just days away from the official start of fall, but you wouldn't know it if you came to Dallas. Any day that has a heat index of less than 100 degrees is a good day. Come on, autumn!

~Fall may not quite be in the air yet, but change certainly is. My Hubby took a leap of faith and a good opportunity and began a new job this past week. He resigned from his position of five years and went to work for a Fortune 300 company that specializes in metal products as a senior network engineer. The biggest change? He is going to an office every day as a regular 8-to-5er. The best part is that the new job requires only about 10% travel...significantly less than what he has been doing. I am so proud of him, and so very thankful for God's provision.

~This is my bye week for chemotherapy. I was very much looking forward to a "normal" week with nothing medical going on, but it was not to be. The instant I woke up on Tuesday I knew that something wasn't right. I was dizzy and lightheaded, and my heart was beating fast and hard. My amazing friends stepped up to help with the boys, and I laid low most of the day. When it wasn't better on Wednesday, my chemo nurse helped me make an appointment with a general practitioner that Dr. M trusts. Turns out that what I was experiencing were anxiety attacks. Although I don't necessarily feel anxious (or any more so than usual), the GP explained it like this: You can only stretch a rubber band so far, or put so much tension on it before it snaps. Thanks to cancer and chemo, my body can't handle life as well as it used to. The anxiety attacks are my body's way of saying, "Whoa--this is too much!" I am trying to listen and take it easy, and with the help of a new medication, I have felt better the last few days. Still, I am a little bitter that there is another medical thing to worry about. Sigh.

~I keep finding the little cowboys perched here:

and Gus hanging out here:

~Two dear friends had to say goodbye to their beloved pets this week. My heart aches for them in their losses, and I have snuggled my Abby dog just a little tighter in the last few days.

~Baby and I baked chocolate chip cookies together as an after-school treat for his brothers. As we put them in the oven, he said to me, "Mommy, this has been a good cookie experience."

~One of the most bothersome side effects of my chemo is peripheral neuropathy. I have it in my feet, and I want it to GO AWAY.

~I bought razors this week for the first time in six months. It has become necessary to shave my legs every few days.

~My brother is getting married this afternoon. There will be a whole other post about that later, but for now...I see his joy and it fills my heart.

~My family drank 4 1/2 gallons of milk last week. I think it would be cheaper and more efficient for us to have a cow in our backyard.

~I have really, really amazing and caring friends.

~My sister was in a car accident this week. She was hit by an ice cream truck. She is completely fine, but her husband's Mercedes Benz is definitely NOT. I'm not a bad sister, but I giggle every time I think about that ice cream truck. And they didn't even offer her a fudgesicle!

Frog Baby

2010-09-18T05:45:00.007-05:00

Preschool is back in session! Baby and I have both enjoyed our time alone since the two big boys went back to school a few weeks ago, but we were both just as ready to get back to our beloved preschool. My boy is a Frog this year--at the top of the preschool food chain. It is so hard for me to believe that next year I will send him to elementary school with his brothers!

So handsome on his last first day of preschool!

Baby and his pal B. They have moved up through the program together, and are the best of friends. I was feeling a little nostalgic, so I pulled out this picture of the two of them from a couple of years ago. They were, and still are, so very cute!

I have been blessed to be able to return to preschool as a teacher. My great friend Shannon (B's mommy!) and I have a class of the most darling 3-year-olds you ever did see. I love, love, LOVE my job, and I love it that I get to be close to my boy during the day.

Baby and Mommy goofing around before class.

Baby has three of the most spectacular teachers for his final year of preschool, who also happen to be a few of my great friends. We are looking forward to a fun year with Ms. Maureen, Ms. Michelle, and Ms. Dee!

Out of Control

2010-09-12T20:58:00.004-05:00

I'm a control freak. I am a fan of lists and schedules. Details are my friends. I like my calendar to be color-coordinated, and my shoes to always match my outfit. I pick out my kids' clothes for school, make a dinner menu for each week, and write a to-do list on my mirror with a dry erase marker. I would like my house to be tidy, but the reality of 3 little boys has changed that to "managebly messy." For the most part, chaos and calamity can take a hike as far as I'm concerned.

Knowing this about myself goes a long way in explaining something I am currently wrestling with. It goes without saying that my life has been turned upside down this year. Cancer waltzed right in and stole so much from me--my dignity, my hair, my stamina, my self esteem. I have fought hard, though, to preserve the things that are truly important: my character, my love, and especially my faith. No doubt that as I've walked this road--even though I absolutely did NOT want to--God has walked right alongside me. I have been helped and held by his hands. I have seen him, felt him, and heard him.

There have been times, though, when it seems that he has been silent. Days when I strained to hear his voice, and there was nothing. Times of darkness when I needed a touch from my Father, yet felt nothing. I look for him, but can only wonder, "Where is God?"

I wondered last Thursday while I sat in a chair watching toxic drugs drip into a vein in my arm. A very sick (and seemingly odd) old woman stared at me for 30 minutes while I did anything and everything to keep from meeting her gaze. "Where are you right now, Lord?"

I wondered yesterday when I made the connection that the little boy that Goliath had invited for a sleepover was the same classmate who three years ago found his father near death after he tried to commit suicide in their home. "Where were you then, Lord?"

I wondered this morning, knowing that my mother was having to explain to a group of 1st graders that their Sunday School teacher dropped dead from a heart attack on Friday night. "Where are you today, Lord?"

I am wondering tonight, even as I write this, while my cousin is keeping vigil in a hospital room beside the bed of her 3-year-old daughter, whose sudden and unexplained neuromuscular disorder may forever change their family. "Where are you tonight, Lord?"

Each of these instances brings to reality the very thing I fear: not being in charge. There is no way to tell you how much I wish cancer had never happened to me. I can't put words to the fierce tenderness and protection I felt for Goliath's friend. I can't show you the tears I cried for children I don't even know or express how seriously angry I felt when I told God, "It's not fair!", all the while asking him to heal little Ellia.

"I like control. I like to know where God is going, exactly what he is doing, the exact route of how we are getting there, and exactly when we will arrive. I also like to remind God of his need to behave in ways that fit with my clear ideas of him. For example, God is just merciful, good, wise, loving. The problem, then, is that God is beyond the grasp of every concept I have of him. He is utterly incomprehensible." --Peter Scazzero

But maybe the blessing is hiding within the "problem." God doesn't have to be bundled into a neat little box. He is God, after all. Perhaps I should spend less time waiting for him to work and move within the confines of what I want him to do and be, and start watching for him to work and move in ways that I would never expect. I don't have to understand everything; I only have to trust in his goodness.

"I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." Psalm 27:13-14

Bad Mommy

2010-09-03T09:17:00.003-05:00

Once upon a time there was a mommy who had three little cowboys. On a beautiful fall day, the mommy's Baby cowboy had a birthday! He turned four years old. He was very strong, very smart, and very, very special. The mommy knew that her smallest cowboy would need shots to keep him healthy and strong, but it was cold and flu season and she wanted to protect him from the germs in the doctor's office. The mommy chose instead to keep him at home and make huge leaf piles for them to jump in.

Fall turned to winter, winter to spring, and spring to summer. At the end of the summer, the mommy received an e-mail that said, in a nutshell, "We are so glad you have enrolled your cute little cowboy in our preschool. Unfortunately, his immunization records are incomplete and he will not be allowed in the doors if you don't take care of it asap."

The mommy knew exactly what to do: she panicked. Then she made a panicky phone call to the pediatrician's office and made an appointment for very early the next morning.

The mommy took her little cowboy to see the doctor . The doctor was pleased with how much he had grown since his last visit and said that he was very healthy and smart. Then it was time for the shots. The mommy laid down on top of her Baby while two nurses gave him four shots in his little legs. While she felt grateful that he would not get polio or chicken pox later in life, she looked into his tear-filled eyes and felt her heart hurt.

The mommy also felt very guilty about taking her Baby cowboy for his four-year-old well check just 69 days short of his 5th birthday. To assuage her guilt, she and the small cowboy shared breakfast at the local donut shop before they dropped the updated shot records off at the preschool office.

The End

Gus and Other Goings On

2010-09-02T10:47:00.011-05:00

My Hubby is an outdoorsman. He hunts, he fishes, he sets up feeders, cameras, and deer blinds. Every good hunter needs a hunting buddy.

This is Gus. He is cute as could be, with his white fur and dark patch around his eye. He sort of resembles the Target dog! In this picture he looks deceptively calm and peaceful, doesn't he? In real life, though, he is anything but calm. He lives in the backyard most of the time--because he's an outdoor dog. But even an outdoor hunting dog must start out as a puppy. That means running, chewing, and general destruction of everything in his path. This is what we woke up to one morning last week:

No, it didn't snow in our backyard. Gus must have decided he didn't like our outdoor decor, so he removed the cushions from our bench swing and shredded them. WITH HIS TEETH.

This is what I will be sitting on from now on while I watch the boys jump on the trampoline. Aaarrrggghhh!

In other family canine news...meet Uno. He is Abby's cousin, the dog-child of my brother. Phil rescued him from a shelter almost 12 years ago, after he had been abused and lost vision in one of his eyes. Hence his name, Uno. He also answers to "Richard."

I got to fly to Houston this past weekend to attend 2 wedding showers for The Brother and his Other. I saw a lot of people who love me, but no one was happier to see me than this furry guy.

This is my little (but much taller) brother with his two sisters. His wedding is fast approaching--we are so thankful for his beloved and their joy.

These are the ladies I used to refer to as "Mom's friends," but now I don't feel like they are just hers--they are ours. These women have managed to make real love and friendship stretch between Houston and Dallas in ways that are both creative and beautiful. They have comforted my amazing mother when she needed them most and cradled her hurting heart in such a tender way, often standing in the gap for me and giving her what she needed when I couldn't. They are funny--good grief, are they funny!!!--and fun to be with. I adore this picture of the six of us, and I hope it ends up on some people's desks in the Children's Ministry office soon!

I also had the opportunity while I was in Houston to attend my parents' church on Sunday morning. I didn't actually go to the service, though--I spent three hours walking the halls of the children's building, putting faces with names of people who have been such a blessing to me over these last months. I was so excited to hug (and be hugged by) countless people who recognized me and wanted to tell me how they have been following my story and praying for me. Houston friends, the pleasure was all mine. Thank you so much for who you are and how you've ministered to us. It was such fun getting to visit you!

Many friends have asked me how I am feeling since beginning maintenance chemo last week. Here's the answer: I am better than I was, but not as good as I want to be. I am not lying in a dark room, nor am I feeling fantastic. The chemo makes me feel fatigued and gives me muscle aches, especially in my legs. Those symptoms seem to fade within a couple of days, so hopefully it will be the case this week as well.

I went to my second session today. Let's just say that when the pouring rain this morning meant that I had to sit through the painfully slow car line to drop the boys off at school (but don't get me wrong--we need the rain and I am thankful!), and then when my car wouldn't start after dropping Baby at a friend's house, I should have known it might not be the best day I ever had. Yep--far from it. The chemo room was full of true characters. I don't want to be friends with those women, especially not the one who has been going to chemo for three years and who doesn't mind telling anyone and everyone that her toenails are falling off. Ewww. Today I took my ear buds, but forgot my iPod at home. No matter--I just plugged it into my computer and listened to nothing, hoping they would take the hint and leave me alone. My Facebook status today simply reads "Ugh."

It's been a long day, so I am off to pop some pills and enjoy an early bedtime. I have a few more tidbits to share, but they can wait until the weekend. Stay tuned...

About the Hair

2010-08-27T08:13:00.003-05:00

I woke up at 4:04 this morning and the first thing that popped into my head was that I should probably say something about my hair on the blog. I couldn't go back to sleep, so here I am.

It is still very hard for me to talk about my hair, but I am committed to being an open book. Here goes: It's no secret that chemotherapy took my hair. I have been bald since April. Around the house I usually wear a hat or a scarf, but the deal I made with my little cowboys was that I would always wear my "pretend hair" when we go out. Always. And I have stuck to that promise (except for that one unfortunate day when we were on the way to the swimming pool and I had to make a desperate run into Walgreens, so I sacrificed my dignity and went in wearing my swimsuit under a coverup and my straw pool hat).

Chemo took the hair on my head a long time ago. What you may not know is that more recently, it took my eyebrows and my eyelashes. To be exact, it stole my eyebrow. One. The only thing dorkier than walking around with no eyebrows is walking around with only one. I grieved the loss of that rarely-thought-about hair on my face almost as much as I mourned the hair on my head. At least I can cover up my head; losing my eyebrow and eyelashes made me look sick.

In the six weeks since Chemo #6, I have noticed that my hair is trying its best to make a comeback. Hubby says my head looks like a baby's--the hair is very fine and sticks straight up. I also shaved my legs this week for the first time in I don't know when! There is still no sign of the eyebrow growing back, but if you look at my eyes really closely (mostly from a side view) you might see the teeny tiny little eyelashes that are growing. They are still way too small to put mascara on, though. I tried yesterday, and all that got me was a makeup MESS all over my face.

So what next? Taxol is the drug responsible for my hair loss, and it is the drug that I will continue to take during maintenance chemo. Yes, it will be a much smaller dose than what I had before, but still! I asked Nurse Michelle about it, and she said that I can expect continued hair growth, but the Taxol will slow it down considerably. Also, any new hair that grows will probably be thin and brittle. Great.

Mom and I visited Survivor Gals this week to see about getting a replacement wig. Even if I wasn't going back on Taxol, it will still be a long time before my hair grows enough for me to be comfortable to go without my pretend hair. Mom and our wig expert Kathy encouraged me to try a new style. Change just is not my friend. In the end, I ordered new hair that is exactly like my old hair...but I changed the color slightly. If you see me in a few weeks parading around with my blonder color and chunkier highlights, please tell me you love my hair. Even if you don't. It will make me feel good if you make it believable. (Wink.)

Also, if you see me, don't look too closely at my one eyebrow. I learned some makeup tricks, but Lord knows I'm no Bobbi Brown.

Mom bought me this button at SG. Right now it is pinned to the outside of my makeup bag. I think I will use a Sharpie marker and cross out the "S" on the end of "eyebrows." Then I will wear it, maybe not proudly, but at least with a blossoming sense of humor.

New Normal

2010-08-26T14:39:00.004-05:00

The Non-Cancer Blogging Event has come to an abrupt end. I am typing this from the chemo room at Dr. M's office. I am hooked up to an IV, and Taxol is being pumped into my veins. I am surrounded by five other women, all older than me, most bald like me. Maintenance chemotherapy has begun.

Yesterday, Mom, Hubby, and I met with one of the oncology nurses for a chemo teaching session. None of the information was necessarily new or startling. The new protocol utilizes Taxol (a chemo drug that I was on previously) and Avastin (an antibody) to prevent recurring cancer. We know that the reality is that in my case, the cancer will almost certainly return--the maintenance protocol is hopefully just slowing it down some. I will come in every Thursday for chemo--3 weeks on, one week off, for the next six months. Those four weeks together are considered to be one "round." After the third round, I will have a CT scan done; after the sixth round I will meet with my doctor and re-evaluate.

I am told that the side effects should be much less than the hell I endured with the "big" chemotherapy. Most patients experience a day or two of fatigue after a treatment; nausea and muscle and bone aches should be significantly less, if I even experience them at all. I will have to go to the lab every week on the day before chemo and have a Neulasta injection after the third week in every round. Neither of these routines is new.

All in all, I guess I should be thankful. Compared to where I've been and what I've done, this should be a piece of cake, right? But here's my hangup: I don't want to compare the next six months to the last six months. I don't want to drive to Dallas every single week to sit in this room with these other sick people and know in my heart that I am one of them. More than anything, I don't want to explain to my sons what I have to do and wonder how to answer their questions. I want cancer to GO AWAY. I want to go back to the life I had before The Sickness. I want to be freed from the cloud of doubt and fear that seems to follow me wherever I go.

After the meeting yesterday, Hubby and I hugged my mom and she headed home to Houston. We got in our car, and my emotional dam unleashed a waterfall of tears. I am exhausted from this. I have fought hard, and I worry that I just don't have what it takes to keep fighting. The last few weeks have been as close to normal as I have felt in a long, long time, and I have loved being able to do the things I used to do before I got sick. I am so MAD that I have to give that up again and replace it with this new normal!

I am reading a little book by Anne Graham Lotz called Why?. In it, she says this: "There is more to life than being healthy, than being happy, than being problem free, than being comfortable, than feeling good, than getting what we want, than being healed. There is more to life even than living! And the 'more to life' is the development of our faith to the extent that our very lives display His glory!" Just a few weeks ago, my friend Becky (who is also the boys' music teacher at school) sang in the worship service at church. The chorus of her song had these lyrics:

I'm satisfied

I've been cared for so faithfully.

But Lord, hear my plea

And may it be

That you're satisfied with me.

I will not stop asking for healing. I will not stop believing that God is in the miracle business and that I can live a long, happy life. But even over that, I want to make those song lyrics my own prayer: May it be, sweet Jesus, that I draw power from you that I don't have on my own, so that every breath I take points right back to you. I want to dig deeper and look harder to find satisfaction and contentment in what you've given me, so that you shine.

"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith--of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire--may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." 1 Peter 1:6-7

I have a long way to go before I can honestly rejoice in my circumstances, but I will work on it! In the meantime, I will drive to Dallas every week and I will sit in this room with these other sick women. I will trust my God, love my family, and believe that there is a plan in place for me...and that it is very, very good.

NCBE: Around Here...

2010-08-25T20:14:00.006-05:00

**Credit and kudos to PandaMom for putting this meme out on the interweb for me to steal!**

Outside my window...the sun is setting on a beautiful day! It was cloudy all day long, and we enjoyed a few random showers. The best part, though, was the temperature: a full 25 degrees cooler than it was earlier this week. 80 degrees was a welcome respite from the oven that is August in Texas!

I am thinking...that I will be really sad at this time next year when I send Baby to kindergarten. I have welcomed the start of school with open arms this week, but I still miss the big boys and it is comforting to have my little guy with me. What will I do without him?!?

I am thankful for...my mom, who is willing to sacrifice so much just because she loves being my mom.

From the kitchen...I created lemon chicken with asparagus for dinner with blueberry pie for dessert.

I am wearing...brown cargo pants and a blue t-shirt with matching flip flops, and my Team Allyson bracelet.

I am creating...a blog post for tomorrow in my head.

I am going...to start working on lesson plans for my preschool class soon.

I am reading...the September issue of Real Simple, Why? by Anne Graham Lotz, and a new cooking magazine that Hubby picked up for me.

I am hoping...that I can find a really great book for myself when I go to the library tomorrow; that the boys' new teachers don't assign too much homework; that Goliath will quit telling me that he won't get to go to 4th grade if he doesn't do well on the TAKS test.

I am hearing...the new tunes I put on my iPod earlier today. Some classics (no one does "When a Man Loves a Woman" better than Michael Bolton), some new worship songs from Jeremy Camp, and a couple of ditties from old school musicals. What can I say? You're never too old for the magic of Annie.

Around the house...the dishwasher is loaded and there is no room left for the four cups and one water bottle that are still on the table. There are two overflowing baskets of laundry waiting to be folded and put away (surprising, right?). The sofa in the playroom has a slipcover, and it needs to be adjusted. Little Middle and Baby have been building a "city" out of an assortment of toys from their closet, and it is not to be touched, thank you very much.

One of my favorite things...sweet cream ice cream with colored sprinkles mixed in at Marble Slab. I wish I had some right now.

A few plans for the rest of the week...Tomorrow Baby and I have a playdate at Chick-Fil-A with some friends while the big kids are at school. Actually, Baby is going to play with his buddy; I am just going to sit and talk with said buddy's mom. On Friday I am flying to Houston so I can attend two wedding showers for my brother and his bride-to-be. Looking forward to a fun weekend!

A picture to share...This gem was taken at the Rough Riders game a few weeks ago. You recognize the cute little boy, but you might be wondering about the ugly foot that someone is rudely sticking in front of his cute little face. The foot belongs to my new brother-in-law, Howie. HHRiii, you were foolish to think this wouldn't turn up on the blog someday. I love you anyway.

NCBE: First Day of School

2010-08-23T20:45:00.008-05:00

First Day of School!

Little Middle is going to first grade.

Goliath is going to third grade.

Little Middle is proud of his new backpack!

Brothers and best buddies.

Ready to go into his classroom--too big for Mom to go with him.

This little guy also told us that he didn't need us to go with him to his classroom.

"I can do it all by myself, Mom."

I couldn't bear to let him go alone...maybe when he goes to high school.

The cowboys had a great first day! They both like their teachers and have lots of friends in their classes. Baby loved his first day, too, because he got the Wii all to himself!

Welcome back, School Year. I have missed you.

NCBE: Heavenly Secret

2010-08-22T07:57:00.002-05:00

Goliath: "Mom, I talked to God while I was in bed last night."

Me: "That's good. What did you say to him?"

Goliath: "Sorry. That information is classified."

NCBE: This Has Never Happened Before

2010-08-19T21:54:00.005-05:00

Summer is drawing to a close, and boredom set in a while back. In a good faith effort to combat the boys' summertime blues and keep my sanity (or what's left of it), Goliath and Little Middle both had friends over to play. They are at the age now where it is sometimes well worth it to have extra children in the house for them to play with rather than have to hear, "There's nothing to DO around here!" over and over again.

So, today there were five boys at my house. They seemed to be playing happily, so I escaped into my bedroom to check my e-mail. After a few quiet moments, there was a soft knock on the door. "Umm, Ms. Allyson? Goliath is putting toilet paper in the living room."

Could you repeat that, cute little boy? Because it sure sounded like you said that my son was toilet papering our living room.

The scene in my living room was so astounding, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Just try to imagine 3 full rolls of toilet paper decorating my small-ish living room...draped over furniture, thrown over ceiling fan blades, arranged in lovely designs on the carpet, and just plain 'ol piled up. I don't know what he was thinking.

And crazy as I might seem, I do not think that toilet tissue is an appropriate form of decor. So Goliath cleaned it up. And while I watched him clean, I had a great idea. Remember in Ramona and Her Mother (Beverly Cleary) when Ramona made a toothpaste "cake" in the sink? Mrs. Quimby made her clean it up and put all that wasted toothpaste into a jar. Ramona had to use the toothpaste from the jar while everyone else in the family used fresh toothpaste from a new tube. Mrs. Quimby was a good mom.

This classy plastic bag holds Goliath's personal toilet paper. All 3 (plus a little extra) rolls. The bag is hanging in the boys' bathroom, labeled with his name, just waiting for him to need it. According to Goliath, this makes me the meanest mom in the world. But I'm guessing that Mrs. Quimby felt pretty proud of herself, too.

Oh--if you come over and need to use the facilities, you're more than welcome. Just please don't use the toilet paper in the Wal*Mart bag.

NCBE: When the Hubby's Away...

2010-08-16T22:39:00.007-05:00

Update: The exterminator called. He can't come out until Friday. Today is Tuesday. Ugh.

My sweet Hubby doesn't travel nearly as much as he used to, but he still takes the occasional business trip. He left this morning for San Antonio, and my day with the boys started out normal enough. At least, normal for us. Goliath went to his friend Chandler's house to play, and I loaded up Little Middle and Baby to run a few errands. Here's a look at how the day progressed:

Little Middle, Baby, and I went to the toy store to pick out birthday presents for some friends. While I was waiting for the clerk to wrap the gifts, Little Middle and Baby noticed the plasma cars for sale and took a few spins around the store. My toes got run over more than once, and the little darlings suffered a sudden episode of hearing loss when I announced it was time to go. Goodbye, video game/TV time.

We had to stop by the grocery store to pick up a few items, one being cereal. I said "no" to Lucky Charms, but somehow we ended up purchasing Froot Loops with marshmallows. Huh?

After that, we went to the pet store. Although we have quite the menagerie, we only needed one item: Crickets. Live ones. I have never bought live crickets, and I don't think I will again. I don't care whose oversized lizard is starving to death.

The lizard got his lunch, and the little boys got theirs. They ate the Lunchables I had let them pick out at the grocery store, because I'm awesome like that. While I was eating my lunch, they went in Goliath's room and listened to music (no video games, remember?). Just when I was feeling so proud of them for playing together so nicely, they invited me to come in and see their new dance they had made up. The dance involved wearing pirate hats and standing in their brother's dresser drawers, which are now broken. Oh, and I could not locate one single hammer when I tried to fix them (although I'm certain we have at least 3).

At about the same time the two little boys were allowed access to electronics again, Goliath and his buddy showed up. Unless you've lived in a house where 4 boys are playing 2 separate video games on 2 different consoles in 2 different rooms, well--you haven't lived. I decided the best way to block out the noise and the yelling was to rearrange Goliath's room. My child, God bless him, is a slob. There's no other way to say it. I try not to nitpick about every little thing, but his bedroom looks like a war zone and every now and then I go on a rampage in there to make myself feel better. I don't know what made me decide to move furniture when I probably shouldn't have, but the big trash bag of junk I filled up was quite satisfying.

Goliath left again before he could admire my handiwork. After his room was cleaned (but not his closet--that's a whole other beast), I went out to water the yard. Seemed like a sensible thing to do, what with it being 658 degrees today and all. While I was watering, I noticed a message written in chalk on my front sidewalk: "Chandler is dum." I'm assuming Chandler's sister wrote it, although I'm not sure why she chose our sidewalk instead of her own.

It occurred to me that I should feed the boys some sort of dinner before I took them to their friends' birthday party. I don't cook much when Hubby is gone, so I gave them the choice of pb&j or chicken nuggets. They voted for nuggets, so I went to the freezer, and...you guessed it. No chicken nuggets. Rather, there was only the bag that the nuggets came in. EMPTY. Aarrgghh.

I slapped together some pb&j sandwiches, pretended not to hear their protests, then ran to make myself presentable and find new pants to replace the ones I was wearing when I dropped my lipstick on them. Hope that comes out. While I was searching through my closet (will I ever learn to keep up with laundry?!?) I heard voices. Goliath, Chandler, Chandler's sister, and one of her friends had come over and Goliath's opinions about his new room arrangement were coming through loud and clear. I chose to ignore him UNTIL I heard this: "Let's hurry so my mom won't see us."

They weren't fast enough. I appeared at my bedroom door as they were sneaking past it with Goliath's (very real, very expensive) guitar in hand. "Hello," I said pleasantly. "Whatcha doin'?"

"We're going to start a band," he explained, "and we need my guitar for our band practice."

"Oh, really?" I said. "That sounds like fun. Unfortunately, the only way you can have band practice with that guitar is if you have it in this house. Which, also unfortunately, can not happen right now because I have to take your brothers to a birthday party. So I guess you'll have to practice later."

I'm not sure Goliath's friends are impressed with my mothering skills.

The older kids left, somewhat in a huff. Little Middle, Baby, and I headed to the birthday party. The kids had a great time; I endured a stifling encounter with a person I am glad I don't see very often. I ate a granola bar and a piece of Hello Kitty birthday cake for dinner.

During the party, Goliath called to see if I would be home in time for his newly-formed band to practice tonight. No. No, I wouldn't. On the way home I collected him from his pal's house and thought how grateful I was that the day was almost over.

We made it home! I only had to get them bathed and to bed before I could collapse. This thought was comforting me when I heard, "MOOOOOMMM!!! There are bugs in our bathroom!!!"

I went to have a look-see, and sure enough, the bathroom had mysteriously been infested with strange bugs while we were out. I was able to identify tiny ants crawling around the edge of the bathtub, but there were many more, much larger bugs WITH WINGS. I don't do bugs if I can help it. But there was no choice--I went in armed with a fly swatter in one hand and a bottle of Spic and Span multipurpose cleaner in the other. The more I killed, I swear the more they multiplied. I finally called Hubby and told him we were being invaded by giant ants with wings. He might have snickered if he hadn't heard the desperation in my voice. He instructed me to see if I could tell where they were coming from, then spray every which way with the pest control spray I would find by his workbench in the garage.

Did you know that the bottles of bug spray and coolant for your car look similar?

I did as I was told, closed the bathroom door, and will not open it again until the exterminator arrives tomorrow morning. Then I washed my hands. More than once.

Hubby texted me a while ago to see if I was OK. I replied that besides being grossed out and feeling a little itchy, I am fine. I also mentioned that "all the best stuff happens while you are gone." He replied, "So it seems."

I have left out the parts about me trying to wrangle the hyperactive bird dog, running from a persistent wasp, and knocking over our trash can with my car.

Babe, I love you. Please hurry home.